So I Went and Let You Blow My Mind
by klemonademouth
Summary: "I stand by my belief that someday, I will meet Neil Patrick Harris, he will fall madly in love with me, we will run off to Vegas, and do the equivalent of having 12 babies." May end up being a slight AU. Filling in the gaps of Blaine's life. BlainexKurt
1. Never Been Kissed part 1

**A/N: I have absolutely no idea where I'm going with this. It might end up being a multi-chaptered thing. I'm not sure. **

**There are a few AVPM and AVPS food references in here. Notice them. **

**Disclaimer: Obviously if I owned Glee, Blaine and Kurt would be in each other's pants already. **

Blaine lay awake, staring at the ceiling. On either side of him, Wes and David's snores harmonized together, something Blaine normally would've found amusing if it hadn't been for the events of that day.

Kurt, the terrible (endearing) spy.

There was just something about him Blaine couldn't quite put his finger on. The fact that he was so obviously gay- and proud of it- was somewhat new to him. Any of the gays at Dalton- himself included- could easily pass as straight. They blended in.

Kurt, however, was flamboyant. Perfectly coiffed hair, designer clothes, the quiet, higher-pitched voice. He nearly screamed "stereotypical", and yet Blaine had never met anybody like him before.

Blaine closed his eyes, and Kurt smiled at him with those pretty, straight teeth and those blue-green-gray eyes.

His eyes snapped back open. _This _is why he couldn't sleep. Because every time he closed his eyes, he saw the boy he was supposed to be a mentor to.

He'd driven Kurt back to Lima the second time after he'd admitted he didn't actually have a way to get home. Blaine's mind kept replaying their conversation- Kurt was just so _witty _and _intelligent_ and_ cute_ with just the right amount of catty thrown in to keep him human.

It was _so hard_ not to fall for him.

And it didn't exactly help that Kurt was pretty much an exact manifestation of Blaine's type.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wes was lying on the bed that had previously belonged to Sam, Blaine's ex-roomate. Most nights, Blaine ended up sleeping in Wes and David's room, due to his absurdly large complex about being alone. The bed had been empty since Sam had transferred at the beginning of the year, with little to no warning whatsoever.

Wes was stuffing his face with an enormous chocolate bar, gnawing on the candy while simultaneously trying to turn the page of his Chemistry textbook and speak to Blaine.

"Why can't you ever study in your own room?" Blaine asked, interrupting whatever Wes had just been prattling on about.

Wes pouted. "You'd miss me, buddy. It's too lonely in here without me. And I'd get too lonely without you."

"Where's David?"

"With Eeeemmmmilyyyy." Wes drew the syllables out, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"You have a girlfriend too, you know," Blaine pointed out unnecessarily.

"I _do_?" Wes looked horrified. "Good _God_, what have I done?"

Blaine chucked a handful of Reeses Pieces at him, laughing.

Wes slammed his book shut. "_Well, _I give up on _this_. I'm going to fail anyway."

"What's the test on?"

"The _mole_," Wes said, and they both groaned. Blaine, who was a year ahead in science, had taken the class the previous year.

"Dreadful. Simply dreadful." Blaine shook his head. "We must cleanse your mind of these impure, mole-related thoughts. Simply _not right_."

"Harry Potter," Wes suggested, holding up the sixth movie.

Blaine's grin split his face. "Tom Felton in a sweater-vest."

"So sexy." Wes deadpanned. "But wait- it feels wrong watching it without David. He'd be mad."

"Consider, if you will, the number of times he has locked you outside of your room whilst you were in the shower."

A corner of Wes' eye twitched.

"Remember the number of times- in _February_, no less- you have been forced to stand outside in the hall in nothing but a towel, while David sits nice and cozy under piles of blankets, laughing his ass off inside the room."

Without a word, Wes crossed the room and slid the DVD into Blaine's laptop. "Bastard deserves to be left out," he muttered, settling back onto Sam's ex-bed.

They watched the opening scenes for a bit, then Wes spoke, his voice rising over Dumbledore's. "How's Kurt?"

Blaine choked on his Red Vine. "K-Kurt?" He stammered, his cheeks darkening.

"Yes, Kurt. The boy you were practically undressing with your eyes while we were singing Teenage Dream."

"I don't-"

"Oh, shut up, I'm not mad." Wes grinned. "That was one of the best performances I've seen you put on in a while. We need to have Kurt in the audience every time."

"I-"

"Blaine, _shut up_."

Wisely, Blaine did so.

"Now, are you going to admit that you are intensely into this kid, or do I have to force it out of you?"

"I'm into him," Blaine admitted, looking down.

"Thank you," Wes said. "Now. Why are you into him?"

Blaine looked at him incredulously. "Are you kidding? Just look at him! Look how strong he is, after all he's been through, how he still tries to stay optimistic, all the heartbreak he's been through. Look at his sense of humor, look at the way he _talks_, for chrissakes! Look how quick his wit is! His voice, his clothes, his hair, his eyes- oh God, his eyes, Wes- have you seen them? Could you tell me, are they blue or gray or green? And-"

He stopped, because Wes was laughing so hard Sam's bed was shaking.

"What?" Blaine asked, peeved.

"You-" Wes gulped in some air. "You are so _head-over-heels_ with this guy it's not even- I mean, I haven't seen you rave this much about a guy since- well, you tend to freak out a lot over Neil Patrick Harris a lot, but he isn't exactly accessible, is he?"

"I stand by my belief that someday, I will meet NPH, he will fall madly in love with me, we will run off to Vegas, and do the equivalent of having 12 babies."

"Raise chickens?" Wes suggested. Blaine lifted an eyebrow.

"_Anyway_," Wes pressed on, "You're so into this boy it's almost sad, except that he looked like he wanted to jump your bones every time you sang anything about skin-tight jeans."

"Did not," Blaine said stubbornly, shoving his millionth Red Vine into his mouth. "Anyway, didn't you see his face when we took him out for coffee that other time? He's being bullied at his school. The last thing he needs right now is more torment- which is exactly what having a boyfriend would get him. Right now, he needs a mentor."

Wes snorted. "How can you be his mentor when all you're thinking about is how badly you'd like to see him naked? David or I could be his mentor."

Blaine's expression was comical. "_You_?"

"What's wrong with me?" Wes asked defensively.

"Um. Well, no offense to you or David, Wes, but neither of you are gay. You couldn't possibly understand what Kurt is going through."

Wes appeared to think that over. "Right. I forgot about the gay part."

"So it needs to be me, I need to prove that gay guys can be friends without anything else going on."

"And they can," Wes pointed out. "You and Nick are close and you've never wanted in his pants. But I don't think that's a possibility for you and Kurt."

"It has to be."

"I still say you can't do it without making a move," Wes said decisively.

Blaine opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by the sound of his cell phone ringing. _I really can't stay... but baby, it's cold outside..._

"Who's that?" Wes said, unsuspecting and genuinely curious.

That's where Blaine made his mistake. "Nobody," he said, making a grab for the phone.

Wes had always had better reflexes than Blaine. His hand snaked underneath Blaine's and snatched the phone.

A shit-eating grin spread across Wes' face. He pressed talk. "Helloooooo, Kuuuuurt," he sing-songed. "No, this is Wesley. For the day, I have been assigned the job of Blaine's butler." He fended off Blaine with one arm. "Right now I have it on good authority that he is taking a very _cold_ showe-" He halted abruptly, his grin falling away. Without a word, he handed the phone to Blaine.

"Kurt?" Blaine said quickly into the mouthpiece.

He heard a sniff from the other end, then- "Blaine," Kurt whispered brokenly.

Oh no.

**A/N: So this may/may not end up going along with the TV show. I have a couple ideas in my head that the TV show may end up not going with, so this may be slightly AU. For the time being, though, it's not. This is meant to take place in between the "Teenage Dream" scene and the "confronting Karofsky" scene in "Never Been Kissed". **

**Also, I love the idea of Wes and David, I feel like they'd have a really good sense of humor for some reason. They look like cool guys to hang around with.**

**A few things- have you guys heard Darren Criss and Chris Colfer singing "Baby, It's Cold Outside?" If not, go look it up. It's AMAZING. Chris' voice is incredible, as always, and Darren- god, why does he have to be so fan-frickin-tastic? The emotion he puts into this song... these lines get me every time: "Baby, it's _bad _out there..." _"Gosh_, your lips look delicious..." "_Ooh_, your lips are delicious..." "But baby, you'd _freeze_ out there..." He legitimately sounds in love with Kurt. It's wonderful.**

**Also, the video for the Warbler's sectionals performance is up! They do "Hey, Soul Sister", and 2 things: first of all, Blaine goes over to Kurt and looks at him and is SINGING to him when he says "So I went and let you blow my mind", and secondly, his expression when he sings "So gangsta, I'm so thug" is HILARIOUS. Go look that up too. **

**Anyway, please review!**


	2. Never Been Kissed part 2

**A/N: Ehmehgawd. I log onto my computer and bloody hell, 25 reviews, guys? For one chapter? You're AMAZING and I love you all and blow enormous kisses. ENORMOUS KISSES.**

**In response... ikilledlaurap: Baby, it's Cold Outside has somehow, within the last two weeks, moved up to second most played on my ipod (second only to Don't Stop Believin'- the Journey version cuz that song is freaking incredible). Teenage Dream is third most played. Deargod Darren Criss. **

**ikffrox: I'm glad to make you laugh :) his thug face... well, suffice to say I drool a little bit while watching. **

**PatrickHenry77, jimmy-barnes-13, OhhhSkyler, Emily Maddox, AllIWantForChristmasIsKlaine, the darkness revealed, mumimeanjudy, Evil Beware We Have Waffles, JaBoyYa, happyinchintz72, BreathexFreely, zenykat, Rekkakouyuu, Brennend, TheOneThatIsAddictedToHPfics, xSadistxFujix, Dear Near Scary, The End of the Old Beginnings, and Lady Squish... thank you so much for reviewing. You're awesome. **

**Um... has anyone seen a picture of Darren in his Dalton uniform with his pink sunglasses? Ohmygod. Go check it out, but put on a bib or something of the sort before you do to catch the drool. **

**Disclaimer: It depresses me to admit that I don't own Darren Criss (or Chris Colfer or Glee). **

"Three, or six-" Kurt was saying, and Blaine was trying so hard to actually _listen _to what the boy had to say rather than focusing on his lips, which were forming the most interesting shapes, especially when his tongue flicked across his teeth...

_Focus,_ Blaine reminded himself, and wrenched his gaze away from Kurt's mouth.

"Blaine?"

Kurt had stopped talking. Blaine cursed himself mentally. "Sorry, just spaced out there. I got distracted."

Kurt's brow wrinkled. "By what?"

Now _there_ was the million-dollar question. Blaine looked around wildly for something he could have possibly gotten distracted by, then leaned forward. "Do they always stare this much?"

Kurt glanced around, as if he hadn't even noticed. "The football players, yes. In fact, they look a little less hostile today than usual, odd. The cheerleaders, no. It's because you're here."

"Me?" Blaine arched one eyebrow at Kurt.

"Well, yes," Kurt said, in surprise. "You're fresh meat. There isn't a single guy in this school that most of them haven't hooked up with- including me."

Blaine looked at him in surprise.

"Yeah, it's a long story," Kurt said. "I was trying to be straight for my Dad last year."

"You are the strangest kid I've ever met, Kurt." Blaine said honestly. "I kind of like it."

He also kind of liked the way Kurt's blush spread all the way to his ears and down his neck.

"Just ignore them," Kurt suggested. "Maybe they'll go away."

Blaine shrugged and went back to his salad, the only passably edible item on the menu. He poked at it with a fork, wondering whether the orange things were carrots or tapeworms, and whether it would shorten his lifespan to eat them.

"I wouldn't, if I were you."

Blaine looked up to see Kurt smiling at him. "We've never exactly determined what they are," he said, nodding his head to the carrots and reaching up to fix the front of his hair in what seemed to be a deeply ingrained habit.

"Mind reader," Blaine chuckled, pushing the food aside.

"I wish," Kurt said, a little wistfully.

A shadow fell over them both. Kurt and Blaine looked up.

A very pretty, somewhat slutty-looking dark-skinned girl wearing a Cheerios uniform and a high ponytail, smiled at them (mostly at Blaine). "Kurt, who's your friend? I don't recognize him."

"Santana," Kurt said, through gritted teeth, forcing a polite smile. "I'm sorry, are we friends? Or am I just imagining the degrading slurs you throw at me every day?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Santana smiled at Blaine, showing all of her perfect teeth, and Blaine had to cover up his laugh with a cough.

Blaine casually reached into his pocket, pulling out his atrociously pink shades (as David once called them) and placing them casually on his nose.

Kurt looked like he was trying really hard not to laugh.

"No hard feelings, sweetheart," Blaine said. "You're gorgeous, really. I think it's just your gender in general that turns me off. Genetics, eh? What are you gonna do."

Santana turned on her heel and marched away without another word.

"You are... amazing," Kurt said, and Blaine looked back to see the other boy looking at him with stars shining in his eyes, and it was just_ too much. _

"I try," Blaine said, attempting to brush off the bad thoughts. The unhealthy, un-teachery, impure thoughts.

"I just... " Kurt paused. "You know, even just seeing your face helped me. Feel braver," he said in a quick rush, ducking his head to look down at his lap. The tips of his ears glowed pink.

Something swooped in Blaine's stomach. "Seeing my face... gives you courage?"

"That's really weird, isn't it?" Kurt said, his face twisting.

"No- not at all." Blaine held up a hand. "I just remembered something. School pictures came in a couple days ago-" he rummaged through his bag, knocking a roll of purple duct tape to the side, and pulled out a crinkly plastic envelope. "Here. Take it."

It was Blaine's school picture. Kurt held it in his hand and stared at it for at least two minutes. Blaine could feel the back of his neck heating up.

"Thank you," Kurt finally said. "So much."

A bell rang, signaling the end of Kurt's lunch period, and the two of them jumped up quickly, emptying their trays into the trash.

"I've got Glee now," Kurt said, somewhat apologetically, "and Rachel will go all Roxie Hart on my ass if I bring a Warbler with me to practice. She's gotten so paranoid about our competition since Jesse."

"Who's Jesse?" Blaine asked, but Kurt simply waggled his fingers flamboyantly at him, grinning.

"That, my dear, is a story that will have to wait for another time. Text me when you get back to Dalton so I know you didn't- I don't know, hit a moose or something on the way back."

He turned to walk away, but Blaine knew he didn't drive an hour and a half out to Lima to be thisclose to Kurt all morning and not be able to touch him at all. He coughed lightly and, when Kurt turned back, held out his arms.

That delicious color flooded Kurt's face again as he stepped forward, somewhat hesitantly, into Blaine's arms.

"Have a great practice, Kurt," Blaine said, releasing him, and reaching into his bag. He handed the roll of duct tape to Kurt. "Use this on Rachel if she gives you too much of a hard time."

It was really, really hard not to fall for Kurt when he looked at him as if he was an angel.

**A/N: short chapter. That I didn't intend on writing. But you guys are just so awesome, I figured...**


	3. The Substitute

**A/N: thank you to hpswst101, EmmaTheSpottedBat, NotSorry, VampHime, thebloodrose, the darkness revealed, jimmy-barnes-13, MeIzzyBambi27, The End of the Old Beginnings, ikffrox, KaelynnLovesGerard, Evil Beware We Have Waffles, forbiddengrace, Powerlad, BreathexFreely, PatrickHenry77, njferrell, xSadistxFujix, and Dear Near Scary.**

**This chapter is dedicated to: happyinchintz72, Theresa Hart, and Emily Maddox, for your awesome reviews.**

**YOU GUYS ARE SO FREAKING AWESOME. OKAY?**

**SPOOOIIIILLLLEEEEER ALLLLEEEERRRRT!**

**X**

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**X**

**OKAY!**

**Who was wicked upset about the way Blaine acted in last night's episode? I know I was! I mean, wtf, he goes from being all "wow-Kurt-that's-so-weird-we-both-love-Vogue-and-read-the-same-books-and-we're-both-gay-so-let's-get-in-bed-together" to "I'm-gonna-be-all-prep-school-douchebaggy-and-kind-of-ignore-you-but-give-you-cryptic-advice-about-a-frikkin-bird-to-make-you-feel-the-tiniest-bit-better-about-ending-up-at-a-school-where-everyone's-the-same".**

**I mean HONESTLY? Kurt got so shut down by Wes! Did anyone imagine Dalton being a little bit different, more fun, more spontaneous (just from the Never Been Kissed episode- I mean, they can't write in that the Warblers like to randomly throw in impromptu performances and not expect the fans to go crazy imagining all the fun times Dalton boys get up to).**

**I AM SEVERELY DISAPPOINTED IN WES AND THAT IS ALL. **

**Disclaimer: stop making me do this. I don't own Glee, okay?**

_"... Rent at the community playhouse, and Blaine got us tickets." -Episode 2.7, The Subsitute._

"You look great." Blaine grinned as Kurt answered his door.

Kurt stuck out his tongue. "You're early, I haven't finished my hair yet. You do not have permission to tease."

"Ah, but I wasn't." the corner of Blaine's mouth twitched. "You really do look wonderful. I like the disheveled look on you."

Oh _God_, he had _not_ just said that in a total "_I-want-in-your-pants-NOW" _voice.

Luckily, it seemed as if Kurt hadn't noticed. He was running his hands through his hair, attempting to flatten it without any product.

"Okay, come in," he said. "You can... I don't know, talk to my dad or something while I fix my hair."

Blaine shuddered inwardly. He would rather face the Spanish Inquisition (_nobody_ expected the Spanish Inquisition) than Kurt's sure-to-be overprotective father. "Why don't I just come with you?"

Kurt blinked. "To my room?"

Blaine nodded.

"Oh. Okay." He nodded a little awkwardly, bouncing on the balls of his feet, before moving towards the nearest door. "It's downstairs."

Blaine followed Kurt down the stairs to his basement room, settling himself on the bed that looked to be the cleanest.

One side of the room was immaculate- that had to be Kurt's. The other side, well- there was a sock hanging over a lampshade, a half-empty pizza box lying open on the bed, and dirty clothes scattered everywhere. The outline of a greasy handprint shone on the wall. That half had to belong to Finn, the almost step-brother Blaine had heard so much about.

"I'm sorry," Kurt apologized, already in front of the mirror, running product through his hair. "Finn is... a Neanderthal. But he's getting better."

A door slammed above them and Blaine looked up reflexively. Kurt, who had jumped at the sound, rolled his eyes. "Finn's home."

A surprisingly girly voice rang out above them, and Kurt winced. "So is Rachel."

Blaine grinned. Kurt had told him all about Rachel Berry, female lead vocalist and Diva Extraordinare of New Directions. The voice didn't stop. "Does she normally talk this much?"

"Talk, or sing, or cry, or complain... actually, most of Glee is spent listening to Rachel make some sort of noise," Kurt said, spraying his hair with something, then turning to look at Blaine. "Let's go, before she does any more damage to my eardrums."

Blaine laughed. "After you, my good sir."

They managed to sneak past Rachel and Finn, who were necking on the couch (Blaine laughed for a good five minutes when Kurt used that word to describe his step-brother and arch-rival's activities), and into the car. Blaine courteously opened the passenger side door for Kurt. He could've sworn he saw the other boy's cheeks darken, but quickly wrote it off as wishful thinking.

The drive to the theater consisted mostly of listening to Blaine fiddling with the radio until he found a Christmas music station, and Kurt complaining that while it was still November that simply shouldn't be allowed and he shouldn't be subjected to that kind of torture until the week before Christmas.

They pulled into the parking lot twenty minutes before the play was scheduled to begin, next to a forest-green Dodge that looked horribly familiar.

Blaine felt the muscles in his jaw begin to jump, but forced himself to stay calm. _Plenty of people have that car, _he reminded himself as he wrapped his scarf around his neck. _It doesn't mean... _and then he spied the small stuffed platypus resting on the dash of the car.

_I am going to _kill _them, _he thought.

"What's wrong, Blaine?"

"Nothing," Blaine said tersely, so distracted that he didn't even think about the fact that maybe holding hands with Kurt (which had somehow just happened) wasn't something a mentor should do.

Blaine should have known they'd go through his desk and find the tickets. He should have _known_ they'd buy their own, and fight for the two seats right beside him and Kurt. He'd sort of been hoping, though, that he was just terribly mistaken- until they walked into the theater and he saw them, chatting amicably in seats 24 and 25 E.

"Our tickets say Row E, seats 22 and 23," Kurt said, but Blaine wasn't listening.

"I'm going to apologize now for what is about to go down," Blaine murmured to Kurt. "You must understand that this was not my idea, I in no way endorsed this, and although I am not a violent person I am very seriously contemplating murder at the moment."

"What do you-" then Kurt saw them. "Oh."

"Yes." Blaine marched himself and Kurt over to their seats. "Leung, Valore, you better have amazing excuses as to why you're here."

"Blaine!" Wes Leung exclaimed, hopping out of his seat.

"Kurt!" David Valore added, popping up beside him.

"How absolutely spiffing!" The two cried together as if rehearsed, beaming at Blaine and Kurt.

Blaine heard Kurt stifle a giggle.

"What strange sort of coincidence brings you to this theater on this fine night to watch-" here Wes checked his program- "Rent with us?"

"And by our seats, as well!" David said in what he clearly thought was an innocent tone, snatching the tickets out of Blaine's hand and reading them as if he hadn't already read and copied the seat numbers down.

"Do you even like Rent?" Blaine asked, folding his arms.

"Of course we do!" David cried, flailing wildly. "It's our favorite show!"

"What's it about, then?" Kurt piped up.

"Cross-dressers," said Wes, proudly. David elbowed him.

The lights dimmed, then returned to normal.

Blaine sighed. "Time to take our seats." He ushered Kurt into seat 22, making eye-contact with David and drawing a line across his throat with his finger.

David gulped.

Blaine settled back and tried to relax and enjoy the play, but it was nearly impossible to do so with all his conflicting emotions.

On one hand, he wanted to smash Wes and David's grinning faces in.

On the other hand, he could hardly suppress the urge to reach out and touch the boy sitting beside him- the boy who'd been watching the actors on stage with a smile so perfect it kind of hurt Blaine's chest to look at it.

It wasn't until nearly the end of the play that Blaine felt a foot connect with his, sending bolts of pain up his leg.

He turned to his left to glare at Wes, who was giving him a stern look that Blaine had long since learned to interpret as "Bathroom _now_". He whispered his excuse to Kurt, then followed Wes out of the theater as quietly as possible.

_"What_?" He hissed as soon as the bathroom door swung shut behind them.

Wes leaned against the sinks, folding his hands in a way that somehow reminded Blaine simultaneously of Dumbledore and a bad therapist. "You're angry."

"No _shit_, Sherlock. Why the hell are you here, and why the hell did you just tell me to follow you to the bathroom?"

"You get with him yet?"

"Uh, no," Blaine said, sarcastically, "Maybe because any semblance of this being a date disappeared when you two showed up!"

"Kurt doesn't seem to mind."

"Kurt is too polite to say what he feels."

"You'll thank us one day."

"No, I won't," said Blaine. "Furthermore, I have decided that your actions tonight deserve some payback. So I've decided to tell Emily and Jennica that you two cried like babies when Angel died."

Wes' jaw dropped. "You wouldn't."

Blaine smiled, a very sinister smile. "I already did."

-xxKurtxBlainexx-

"So that was... interesting," Kurt said, as they were getting in the car.

"I can't apologize to you enough," Blaine said, turning the key in the ignition. "They were way out of line."

"I like them," Kurt interjected, and then blushed a little when Blaine looked at him. "Wes and David. I mean, they're nice. And they like me."

"Of course they like you," Blaine said, nonplussed. "Who wouldn't?"

"Most people," Kurt said.

Oh. Blaine could hit himself. "Those people..." He chose his words carefully. "Those people are ignorant, Kurt. They're so eager to slap a label on people that they can't look past one characteristic to see so many other wonderful characteristics about that person. They decided early on that 'gay' was you, and decided that was somehow bad, and that was all you were. _You _know that you are so much more than that."

Kurt let out a puff of air. "Honestly, I can't figure out what your flaws are," he admitted. "Especially when you make speeches like that."

Blaine felt the back of his neck burn. "I have flaws, Kurt."

"I'll believe that when I see it," Kurt muttered, then changed the subject. "Anyway, I like Wes and David. But I do wish it had been just us."

Was Kurt...?

"Me too," Blaine said quietly, and in the dark of the car, their hands brushed.

**A/N: Thank you all for being so marvelous, and don't forget to review!**


	4. Furt

**A/N: So remember how upset I was about Blaine being all douche-baggy in the last episode? WELL HE JUST MADE UP FOR IT, SO MUCH.**

**If you have not seen the actual _VIDEO _version of Blaine and Kurt singing "Baby, it's Cold Outside'' on youtube, go look it up _right now_. It is... oh my god. There is so much FRIKKIN EYE SEX. They undress each other with their eyes! Blaine... you cannot look at Kurt like that and claim to be just friends with him. It's just not possible. Okay? **

**Things to watch for: **

**Blaine- "No caps to be had out there"**

**Blaine- "Your eyes are like starlight now"**

**Kurt & Blaine- "mind if I move in closer..." (look at Kurt's face when this happens. it's precious)**

**Blaine- "I thrill when you touch my hand"**

**Kurt- "there's bound to be talk tomorrow"**

**Blaine- "if you got pneumonia and died" (my personal favorite part)**

**Blaine- "get over that hold out"**

**AND THE END, the way they look at each other.**

**OHMYGOSH THAT WAS HEAVEN FOR A FANGIRL LIKE ME. The first time I watched it, there was COPIOUS flailing and so many squee's that the girl in the dorm next to mine knocked to ask if I was okay. Yeah. **

**SO OMFG I'M FREAKING OUT. **

**I'm typing this fast because I have a lab to do (that I still haven't finished because I've been too busy freaking out about the adorableness that is Klaine) so I don't have time to individually thank you all. But I don't love you _any less. _In fact, I love you _more_.**

**HUGE KISSES. Enjoy!**

Blaine lay on his bed, grinning up at the ceiling.

Kurt was just so _cute_.

How excitable he'd gotten, when he'd been sitting in the restaurant with him and Mercedes (who, while a lovely girl, had seemed a little stand-offish and a little spacey- when he brought it up to Kurt he'd been quick to blame it on the lack of tater tots but somehow Blaine didn't quite think that was it). The wild gestures he'd made with his hand, and his damn _bow tie_... Blaine's fingers had simply itched all night to reach over and straighten it, and he was sure that Mercedes had seen his hands twitch in that direction so many times. Surely, he could not have been imagining the smirk on her face.

So he'd flirted with Kurt. So sue him. It had been _so long_ since he'd been around a boy who was that transparently interested in him (to be honest, he could see why Kurt had scared Finn off- if he acted like that around a straight guy he was surprised Finn hadn't filed a restraining order). So sue him if he leaned a little close to Kurt and rested his hand on his knee (no higher than his knee, goddammit, because he wasn't Karofsky and he wasn't going to take from Kurt what Kurt didn't want).

But maybe it wasn't the best idea to have flirted with him, because maybe it made Kurt expect things from Blaine that Blaine didn't think he could give Kurt right now.

Oh sure, _eventually_ he could, he knew. Eventually he probably would. But he wanted Kurt to understand that he didn't have to jump into a relationship with the first gay guy he met. And he wanted Kurt to understand that two gay guys could be _just friends_- just like a guy and a girl could be_ just friends_ (although lately he hadn't seen evidence of that- as exhibited by Wes and his on-again, off-again girlfriend, Jennica, who every time they broke up insisted that they were "just friends").

"I have called you five times," came David's voice from the doorway. "And you didn't pick up."

Blaine sat upright in bed. "What the hell, David? How did I not hear you open the door?"

"I have insane ninja skills," David said, very seriously. "Also, your door was already open so that may have had something to do with it, although I am more inclined to fall back on my previous reasoning that I have insane ninja skills."

Blaine folded his arms impatiently.

"Anyway," continued David, "I have called you five times and you didn't pick up. So I assumed you were doing something ridiculously important, like, I don't know, solving world hunger or curing cancer or having sex with Kurt. But you are doing none of the above. Do you know what you are doing, Blaine?" David took a step closer. "You are _lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, with your phone lying right next to you. _You aren't even doing anything!"

"I was thinking," Blaine said defensively.

"About what?" David threw his hands up in the air. "Oh, that's right. About Kurt. Because Kurt is what you think about all the time now, and maybe you should come downstairs to the common room because while you've been moping up in here all by your lonesome, something actually happened involving Kurt."

Blaine bolted off his bed. "What? What happened?" he threw on his bathrobe and darted down the stairs, taking them two at a time, sliding into the foyer with a loud scraping noise and startling the dozens of boys who were clustered around tables, doing homework or practicing Warbler's music.

Standing in the middle of the lobby, with a slightly uncomfortable-looking Wes, were two people who most certainly didn't fit into Dalton Academy.

The woman was well-dressed, to be sure, but she didn't look quite comfortable in her clothing, as if someone else had picked it out for her and she wasn't quite sure it was the right thing. The man was wearing a plaid lumberjack shirt, a baseball cap, and ripped jeans. They were standing very close to each other and staring around with wide eyes at the furnishings of the West Hall.

"There you are, Blaine," Wes said, in relief, raising a questioning eyebrow at Blaine's choice of attire. "I think this is more your area of expertise."

He turned to the older couple. "Blaine himself transferred his sophomore year after dealing with problems similar to your son's. I'm sure he'd be happy to help."

"What can I do for you?" Blaine smiled politely, but was filled with confusion on the inside. Hadn't David said it had something to do with Kurt? "Mr. and Mrs... er..."

"Hummel," the man supplied, and Blaine felt his stomach drop.

xxxxxxxx

"I never imagined it was this bad," Blaine said in a low voice, not meeting either Burt or Carole's eyes. "I told him courage, but if I had known-"

He was cut off by Carole's hand covering his. He looked up into her surprisingly warm eyes. "Don't blame yourself, Blaine. It would have gotten this bad with or without you, and I think Kurt was lucky to have a friend who understands his situation. You could offer him the kind of advice Burt and I never could, simply because neither of us can possibly understand what he's going through right now. But you can."

Burt cleared his throat, then said gruffly, "I'm prepared to do whatever it takes to get my kid into this school. I hear there's an strict no-harassment policy."

Blaine nodded. "Everyone gets treated the same, no matter who or what they are."

"And you clearly love it here," Carole said, looking around.

"I do," Blaine said, honestly. "I mean, it took some getting used to, after going to a public school. And I'm sure it's going to take Kurt some getting used to, especially if he's going to have to board here. But we'll find him a great room, and an excellent room mate. He may not love it right away- I know I was helplessly lost the first few weeks- but I think once he's made some new friends and realized that there are no Karofsky's here to harass him, he'll love it here."

"It certainly is very beautiful," Carole said, looking around to all the paintings.

"And, uh. This Glee thing Kurt is in. Do you have one of those here?" Burt asked, uncertainly. "I know it's really important to the kid, it's practically his whole life. All he talks about at home."

"We do, actually." Blaine smiled. "I'm in it. We call ourselves the Warblers. We'd love for Kurt to audition, and if he is as good as I've heard he should have absolutely no problem making it in."

Carole and Burt stood up, and Blaine followed suit. "Thank you for talking to us," Carole said. "I don't think we have any more questions. We're going to talk this over with Kurt to make sure it's what he wants and then he will be enrolled here as soon as possible."

Blaine reached out his hand for both of them to shake, then locked eyes with Burt. "Please tell him... that I've got his back."

"Will do," Burt said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Blaine sank back into his squashy leather chair, stunned at the events of the day.

Kurt was transferring to Dalton. How bad had the bullying gotten? And why hadn't he told Blaine? He and Kurt texted every day, and Kurt had never once mentioned anything about Karofsky- in fact, he'd even told him that Karofsky had gotten suspended. But apparently, that wasn't the case.

Blaine sighed, running a hand through his hair. Moving to Dalton was going to be tough on somebody as individual as Kurt, someone who wasn't used to wearing a uniform and fitting in. Especially someone with a Glee club as diverse and unusual as Kurt's was. He wondered if he could tell the guys to go easy on Kurt for the first few days.

He wondered if that would even make a difference.

**A/N: My fabulous readers- you guys are seriously awesome. Keep on rockin' me, baby. **

**Also, I'm working on a short leeeeetle fic that involves what David said to Kurt while Wes and Blaine were having girl time in the bathroom during Rent. I was originally going to make it part of this chapter, but it just didn't fit right, mostly because I've been sticking to Blaine's POV. I'll be putting it up as a one-shot shortly, so be sure to check that out!**


	5. Special Education

**A/N: So guys, I'm a little bit worried about this chapter. I'm uncertain about it, to be honest. I'm semi-pleased with it, and I do have an explanation as to how it ends, but I'm not sure how happy you guys will be with it because it's somewhat of a cliche. But I'll let you guys decide on it. This is kind of where I think my story might be taking a spin into the AU world. Before this, I've been essentially sticking to the canon world of Glee, perhaps making Dalton a little more quirky than it is in the show, but really sticking with the plot of the show. After this chapter, though, all bets are out the window. You'll see what I mean.**

**On a happier note, Christmas special tomorrow!**

**Then nothing until February :( However shall we satisfy our NEEDS? Here's what I'm going to have to do. I'm going to have to watch "Baby, It's Cold Outside" over and over again until my computer breaks or I explode. It's simply the only solution.**

**Also, I had a 17-page paper due today, which is why I didn't update over the weekend, but as soon as I got back from my english class I felt really inspired, so I sat down and wrote this. And the paper took all of Saturday and half of Sunday, so thank God I had very little other homework. Strangely enough, only the song "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (Kurt's solo version) could get me through the paper, so I played it over and over on repeat. Went from 4 listens to 149 listens in the span of 7 hours. Wahoooooo. Anyway, my paper's done and I can breathe a sigh of relief now. Huzzah!**

**Another thing (holy crap, this note is long) have any of you ever been on my life is average? I haven't in a while, but I went on when I was taking a break from my paper (I have a strict schedule... write four pages, then take a 15 minute break. Write four pages, 15 minute break. So on and so forth...), and there was one that almost made me pee my pants laughing and I'm not quite sure why but I feel the urge to share it with you. So here it is.**

**Today, I woke up beside a giant orange caterpillar. Before I screamed in horror, I poked it to make sure I wasn't dreaming and almost had a heart attack when ears popped out of it. It was my fat cat. MLIA.**

**Yes. That made me laugh hysterically.**

**OKAY! STORY TIME!**

**(I don't own Glee, Darren Criss, or Chris Colfer)**

"Blaine."

Blaine hesitated outside the door to his French classroom, taking the moment to sling his shoulder bag up over his arm. "Yeah?"

Wes moved briskly toward him. "We have to talk." his voice dropped. "It's about Kurt."

Blaine felt his heart slam into the bottom of his stomach. "What about him?" he was aware that his voice had taken a sudden defensive edge, and Wes noticed.

"I know you like the kid, and I do too," Wes said, quickly. "I just think- he's having a really hard time adjusting. He's not used to Dalton like we are."

"No, he's used to McKinley, where people are allowed to wear what they want and he can offer his opinions on songs without getting shut down," Blaine said, a little bitingly.

"Yes, a place where he was slushied two or three times a day, thrown in dumpsters, and shoved in lockers," Wes said, sarcastically. "Blaine, you know as well as I do our rules. I don't want to shut Kurt's ideas down, but he has to understand that we have certain methods, methods that have been around for far longer than you or I have been around."

"I understand that, but you've met Kurt. You know how easily crushed he is. He thought you two were... I don't know, _friends,_ from the way you acted towards him during Rent. And you just shot him down- remember, he's from a school where he's _used _to being turned on. All the time. And he was convinced that Dalton would be different!"

"Don't be hypocritical, Blaine," Wes said, through gritted teeth. "_I'm _being hard on him? You've practically ignored him since he came to this damn school, and you know that one of the main reasons he came was because of you, you can't deny that to yourself. And you've pulled away from him. He's _lonely_, Blaine, because by spending so much time with him before he came to Dalton, he expected you to be there for him when he switched."

"He deserved that solo," Blaine said, calmly. "More than anyone else."

"I'm not going to argue that with you," Wes said. "I think he did, too. But don't you see how he is right now? He's like you, when you first transferred. He's lost. He's used to having to make his entire world about _him _because it's the way he's always had to be to survive. He doesn't realize that here, we all need to care about each other and the team in order to survive. He has to learn that lesson, and giving him a solo is not a good way to do that. Giving a solo would single him out, which is exactly what he _doesn't _need right now."

Blaine knew that, he did. It didn't make him feel any better, though. He sighed. "At least the poor kid took it well."

Wes' face twisted.

"What?"

"Another thing, Blaine- you isolating him isn't just affecting him as a friend. I mean- you acted flirty. Like more than a friend. You can't just go back on that. You can't give him mixed signals like that, like you are, when he's already so messed up. Remember, he has no experience with other guys. He probably has no idea what it's like to crush on a guy who isn't straight."

"What makes you so sure he-"

"That he likes you?" Wes snorted. "You come swooping into his life exactly when he really needs somebody there, like some sort of freaking knight in shining armor, texting him "courage" all the time and even skipping school to drive all the way to Lima to confront some bully for him, and asking him to hang out all the time and even taking him to _Rent_, for god's sakes! I'd know he was crushing on you even if I didn't see the way he looks at you!"

"The way he-?"

"Don't make me get into this," Wes groaned, "I'm no good at all that sappy stuff, you know that." He ran a hand through his hair. "You know what I mean. Like the sun rises and sets on your face."

Blaine groaned. "Why?"

"Maybe it has to do with the fact that you acted infatuated with him, too," Wes suggested. "Either way, you're the only person he was close to before he came here and now you're pulling away and it's making him feel lonelier and lonelier."

"Yes, you've said." Blaine sighed. "So what, should I go talk to him?"

"Yeah, that would be a good idea," Wes said, sarcastically.

It was at that moment that Blaine's phone beeped. He looked down at it, and saw his first text from Kurt since Kurt had come to Dalton Academy.

**KURT: **Come quick. I'm in the commons.

xxxxxxx

It was endearing how quickly Kurt had gotten attached to Pavarotti. Perhaps because he felt as if the bird really was his voice.

"Kurt," Blaine said, gently. "You know you don't have to carry the bird around with you everywhere."

Kurt ducked his head, embarrassed. "I know it sounds stupid, but Pavarotti listens. He actually seems to understand."

Blaine felt confused. He'd never gotten from Kurt the vibe that Kurt was the kind of boy who'd personify his pets.

"You know, I came here," Kurt said, slowly, "because of somebody. Somebody who was a really good friend to me, maybe even one of my best friends. And since then, I've barely seen him. Even when he comes in to check on me, it seems as if he's doing it out of duty."

Blaine could feel the prickling on his arms, all up his back. His heart was beating too fast. "Kurt-"

"And I thought you guys were going to be _so cool_," Kurt said, either ignoring Blaine or not hearing him, "because of how Sam was."

That stopped Blaine short. "Sam?"

"Yeah, Sam Evans. He came to this school."

"He was my room mate." Blaine said.

For the first time, Kurt's face was as confused as Blaine. "Your room mate? Really? Well, that explains a lot about him."

"What do you mean?"

"He was _nice_ to me. And he knew what I was. Who I was. We were even going to sing a duet together and he didn't care. I walked in on him in the shower and he didn't try to cover himself up. He must have been used to you."

"He's a good kid," said Blaine. "We were kind of wondering where he went."

"That's not the point," Kurt said, "and you know it. We were talking about how much you _suck_."

Blaine winced as the other boy's angry words lashed out at him. "Kurt, just hear me out."

Kurt folded his arms, and turned his back slightly towards him. Blaine reached out to touch his arm. "I'm sorry I haven't been making an effort to see you- it's a busy year for me, and I know that's not an excuse since I drove all the way to Lima to see you those couple of times. But I do consider you one of my best friends, Kurt- you're even with David and Wes in my eyes. And I miss seeing you too. To be honest-" here he hesitated, before plowing ahead. "-I wanted to give you a chance. I mean, you'd only met me from Dalton. How was I to know if you'd still want to be close with me? I wanted to give you the chance to make your own friends, if possible."

Kurt smiled to himself.

"What?" Blaine asked.

"You're so _stupid_," Kurt laughed, before hugging him.

Blaine automatically hugged back, thrown off by Kurt's sudden mood-swing and the unexpected show of affection from the boy who usually only accepted pats on the back or the knee.

"I have something else for you, too, if you want it," Blaine said, casually, his heart pounding so hard he could hardly hear himself speak. "I talked to the Dean this morning. Um... I've been alone in a double room since Sam moved out. Normally I actually... well, this is kind of embarrassing. About three or four times a week I go and sleep in Wes and David's room because I'm so lonely. But I offered- well, I know you're having trouble with your room mate."

Kurt grimaced. Leon was nice, and didn't care Kurt being gay, but the entire room always smelled like foot and Leon took up more than his share of closet with his identical Ohio State sweatshirts that his older brother sent him dozens of.

"So I requested you being switched into my room. That is, only if you're willing." Blaine said, quickly.

Kurt's jaw dropped.

Blaine crossed his fingers behind his back.

"Oh my god... are you serious? Yes! When do I move in? Can I move in now? Can we get all of my stuff tonight? Is there room in Sam's old closet for my designer stuff, because I brought most of it with me but I've had to shove it under my bed because Leon-"

Blaine put a hand over his mouth. "Slow down, your tongue is tripping over your words," he laughed. "Of course you can move in tonight. We just have to inform the Dean that you've accepted the switch and tell Leon he'll be in a single room for now."

"You just made up so much for everything," Kurt said, earnestly. "Thank you, Blaine."

_Anytime,_ Blaine thought. _Really._

xxxxxxxx

"Wes, get _out_ of my room," Blaine groaned when he saw who was sitting on his bed.

Wes bounced a little, a Cheshire-cat grin planted firmly on his face. "Whose is that?" he nodded his head towards the cardboard box Blaine had balanced on one hip.

"Kurt's," Blaine said, curtly (**lol**). "He's my new room mate."

Wes exploded with laughter. "_You're shitting me!"_

"Wes!"

"This is how you're going to make it up to him? Being a douchebag? By screwing his brains out?"

"Wes, _shut up_," Blaine whispered furiously, feeling the blush creeping up his neck and over his collarbone.

"Why the hell do you need two beds?" Wes said, incredulously. "If you got rid of one you'd have so much space, it's not like you're ever going to use it with the way Kurt's looking at you all the-"

He never got the entire sentence out, seeing as a large cardboard box was lobbed at his head, knocking him off the bed.

"What was that?" Kurt asked, appearing in the doorway with another box.

"I think you just fractured my skull," Wes said from under the bed, in a slightly muffled voice.

"You're talking, you'll be fine," Blaine called. "Count backwards from ten for me."

"10... 4... 7... 9... 2... 5... 8... 6... 3... 1..." Wes said, weakly.

"Well, you managed to start with ten and end with one, so close enough. You won't die."

"Easy for you to say," came Wes' voice again. "What's in this box anyway?"

"My iron," Kurt said, apologetically. "It's stainless steel."

"Ah, okay." Wes said, calmly. "I think I'm just going to pass out now."

David appeared in the doorway next to Kurt. "Did you kill Wes?"

"How did you even know anything was going on?" Blaine demanded. "You live two floors up!"

"Brotherly intuition," David said, moving past Kurt and Blaine to inspect Wes, who indeed appeared to have passed out. "You kill my room mate, I'm gonna know about it."

"I didn't mean to kill him!" Blaine cried, throwing his hands in the air and nearly hitting Kurt in the face.

"Nevertheless, you did it. You killed my best friend." David pointed an accusing finger at the boys in the doorway.

"I thought _I _was your best friend."

"Guys, move," Kurt said, impatiently. "Let me see him."

"Why? So you can hit him with the coffee-maker you have in _that_ box?" Wes said, waspishly.

Kurt blushed and handed the box to Blaine. "No, so I can have a look at him. I did football and my Dad had a heart attack and I've been punched and shoved into lockers enough to have basic medical training, particularly with treating head injuries. So unless you want Wes to be _really_ hurt, let me past you and let me see him."

"Oh." David let Kurt past, chagrined.

Five minutes, and already Blaine could tell exactly what rooming with Kurt was going to be like.

Not that he minded, at all, he concluded as he watched Kurt tending to Wes' injuries, and an image popped into his head of Kurt in a really sexy doctor's uniform.

_Where the hell did _that _come from?_

**A/N: So there you have it. I know it's pretty cliche and overdone to have Kurt and Blaine end up rooming together, but I have my reasons for it. **

**First of all, I do think both Kurt and Blaine board at Dalton. I don't know why, but for some reason... I mean, Burt and Carole got married, right? And I know Burt kicked Finn out of the house, but if Burt and Carole are married it means they probably live together, and since Finn isn't old enough to live on his own it probably means Finn lives with them. And in the most recent episode (Special Education) Kurt said he hasn't talked to Finn since the wedding. So I'm assuming that means he hasn't seen Finn, and hence is boarding at Dalton.**

**And now that they're sharing a room, they can get their cuddle on.**

**But siriusly, you guys, that's not the only reason I had this happen. Blaine has been a right douche to Kurt in Special Education, and I feel as if this was the only way he could make up for his douchey-ness. If this doesn't work with tomorrow night's episode, it means I'm going the AU route, so hurrah for that. **

**Blaine and Kurt need to be close again. Like, NOW. And I think I got a little more faith in their friendship/romance when I saw "Baby, It's Cold Outside", but I was wondering how they went from kind of indifference in "Special Education" to that cozy, undressing-eachother-with-their-eyes sort of thing we just saw in BICO. **

**So here was my solution.**

**Don't hate me for it.**

**I love you guys. **


	6. A Surprise Visit

**A/N: WHO ELSE IS FLAILING SO FREAKING HARD AFTER WATCHING THE CHRISTMAS EPISODE!**

_**SPOILER ALERT!**_

**Okay, I have SO MANY FREAKING THINGS to go over. First of all. Barely any Kurt or Blaine in this episode, but that's probably because they were a lot in the last episode. BUT THE LITTLE OF THEM WAS AMAZING. I mean, I already saw Baby, It's Cold Outside, of course, but they neglected to mention the amazing dialogue beforehand! I mean... Blaine! Blaine, telling Kurt that he was better than any girl could ever be! wtf Ryan Murphy, if you tell us after this that they're not going to be together, you'd better be expected us to chase you down with bamboo shards to stick under your nails, OKAY? Because I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS. They are too damn adorable to not be a couple!**

**And Kurt admits that he's in love with Blaine. OMFG. That made me squee, and my room mate was like "wtf could you please be a little less gay fangirl?" but she was totally squeeing secretly too so screw her. **

**MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR SPOILER ALERT K?**

**Artie can WALK? **

**That was AMAZING! I started crying, I'm not even kidding, when it happened! I don't even know what to say about this... Artie... oh my god! Things are finally looking up for the two people on the show I have always felt the worst for, Kurt and Artie. God, Ryan Murphy, you rock my socks.**

**Also, yes, Finnchel is sad. Very sad. But can I just say I'm insanely happy that they didn't get back together this episode? I mean, they broke up ONE EPISODE AGO. I know it sounds bitchy but seriously, it would be really stupid if they got together again. Rachel was wrong, and right now she's being selfish by trying to get Finn to forgive her before he's ready. She needs to learn some lessons before she earns Finn back.**

**OHGOD. I'm actually writing this before I write the next chapter because I'm too scared I'm going to write in way too much Klaine and end it with them jumping each other, which, as far as I'm concerned, is WAY too soon to be happening. I wish, right?**

**Anyway, I'm waiting until Wednesday or Thursday to do this chapter because I'm too frightened of what I'll make Blaine and Kurt do to each other right now. **

**.**

Blaine lay on his back on his bed, strumming on his guitar and staring at the ceiling and listening to the sound of water hitting the floor of the bathrooms next door. Someone was taking a shower.

_Don't you want the way I feel... don't you want the way I feel... don't you want the way I feel for you?_

He pushed his guitar aside impatiently. He'd been stuck on those few, slightly cheesy lines, since Kurt had moved into his room a week ago, unable to get past them to write the rest of the song. He loved that Kurt was his room mate, of course- he was just so full of life, bustling around and hanging up his posters of Judy Garland and Madonna and Lady Gaga. He'd even put up a little stocking with his name on it at the end of his bed. When Blaine had asked him about it, Kurt had fairly beamed, telling him that Brittany had made one for each person in New Directions and she'd even remembered to make one for him and had sent it to him as a Christmas surprise.

The fondness that appeared in his eyes when he talked about his old Glee Club was unmistakable. He liked Dalton, Blaine knew, and he even liked the Warblers, especially since he and Wes had become better friends. But there would always be a huge part missing from him, a slot that he knew only eleven people in the world could fill. Blaine could never replace them.

He'd never voiced his thoughts to Kurt. He didn't want any false reassurances from the boy he'd grown to care _so much _about. He'd seen the way Kurt looked at New Directions when they were performing at Sectionals. How desperate the want had been in his eyes, the need to be up on stage singing his heart out with his eleven best friends. _That_ was where Kurt belonged, a place where individuals were meant to stick out and be celebrated, where everyone was a star who shone so brightly Blaine's eyes hurt.

He'd almost forgotten what that sort of individuality looked like, he'd been at Dalton so long. Yes, the Warblers were wonderful for Blaine. He loved that sense of belonging he'd never had at his old school. But Blaine had never been a part of his old school's Glee Club. In fact, he was pretty sure that his old school didn't _have _a Glee Club. So he'd never had a place like Kurt. Kurt had New Directions, who would always have his back, a spot of light in the black hole that was McKinley High. Blaine hadn't had a light before Dalton. When he'd transferred, everything was light to him.

Yes, Kurt belonged in New Directions, not with the Warblers. But Kurt also belonged at Dalton, not at McKinley. That had been proven. Kurt had easily been accepted at Dalton the way he hadn't been accepted at McKinley. Just yesterday, when the two of them entered the dining hall together for breakfast, a red-head named Calvin who Blaine barely knew threw his arms up and shouted, "KURT! I need you!"

And Kurt, appearing to know the redhead better than Blaine did, hurried over to him, dragging Blaine along with him.

"I have a date tonight," the boy said, dramatically. "I'm meeting Charlotte's parents. And I have _nothing to wear_."

And Blaine had smiled to himself as Kurt had immediately dove into the world of acceptable outfits for meeting one's significant other's parents for the first time, complete with hand gestures and excruciating detail.

Yes, Kurt belonged at Dalton.

The thing was, he just didn't belong in the Warblers. The Warblers weren't a celebration of individuality, which was what Kurt needed. They were a celebration of unity, which was wonderful in its own way, and wonderful for Blaine. But it wasn't wonderful for Kurt.

"Lost in thought?"

Blaine fell off his bed at the sound of David's voice. He sat up, rubbing his head and glaring at the boy who was lounging casually on Kurt's bed, grinning at him.

"I hate you," he informed David, climbing back onto his bed and checking his guitar (his baby, as he referred to it) to ensure he hadn't harmed it.

"What were you thinking about?"

"Kurt," Blaine said, honestly. "And don't smile at me like that, I wasn't thinking of him _that way_, get your mind out of the gutter- I was thinking of the Warblers. I mean, Kurt reminded me so much of myself when I first came here. How can I feel such a sense of... belonging, in the Warblers, yet Kurt feel such a sense of isolation."

"Blaine..." David said, slowly. "Do you remember how it was when you first came here? You didn't have a mentor whispering 'courage' in your ear as he passed you in the hallways. You knew about the strict no-harassment policy, but you didn't know how anyone would act out of sight of teachers. It took you, what, three months to tell Wes and I that you were gay? And when you did, you said it like you expected us to beat you up for it."

"I remember," Blaine said, smiling slightly.

"But Kurt has you," David said, "and you showed him that in this school, it's okay to be gay. He's used to sticking out. He wants to stick out. And at school, I think he's realized that it's okay to be him. He can fit in, and still be an individual. He's adjusted to Dalton. He just hasn't adjusted to the Warblers yet."

The water in the room next door shut off.

They both fell silent, and David rose off the bed. "Just give him time, Blaine. That's all he needs."

He slipped out of the room just as Kurt slipped in, wearing only a towel. So he'd been the one in the shower that whole time. Blaine should've figured by the length of the shower; he was always afraid Kurt was going to drown himself one day in one of his half-hour showers.

"Hey, Kurt," Blaine said, focusing very hard on the poster hanging above his bed, rather than the half-naked, _very _attractive boy who was currently changing back into his school uniform. He rolled onto his side, staring at the wall, and trying very hard to be a gentleman.

A familiar tune reached his ears, slightly muffled humming as Kurt pulled his Dalton sweater over his head.

Blaine rolled back over, confident it was now safe to look. "Are you humming the Pokemon theme song?"

Kurt blushed a deep red, all the way to the roots of his hair. "...No," he mumbled. "Yes. I didn't expect you to recognize it."

Blaine grinned. "You're looking at the biggest Pokemon dork ever. It was all the rage when I was in... Kindergarten. Then it kind of died out, and in third grade I was the only person left trying to trade cards."

Kurt laughed fondly. "I was never a big Pokemon person, myself. But Sam was singing it to me over Skype last night and I can't get it out of my head."

Blaine laughed, too. "I can see Sam doing that. He was obsessed with Avatar when he was here- he had about four different posters on his side of the room."

Kurt chuckled, then changed the subject. "So what was that song you were singing before?"

Blaine felt the telltale prickling on the back of his neck that signified the beginning of a blush. "Uhm, what?" he said, rubbing at his neck, trying to rid himself of the sensation that ants were crawling all over it.

"The song. I could hear you on your guitar when I was in the shower."

"It's only a few lines," Blaine sighed, "I'm stuck on everything else."

Kurt plopped down on his bed, tucking his legs up underneath him daintily and perching his chin on his hands. "So?" He urged. "Let's hear it, then."

"Pushy, pushy," Blaine mumbled, reaching for his guitar. He strummed the first few chords.

_Say... wasn't that a funny day? Gee, you have a funny way- a way about you... a kind of glow of something new... _

He cleared his throat. "Uh... then I only have the chorus after that."

_Don't you want the way I feel... don't you want the way I feel... don't you want the way I feel for you?_

Kurt was gazing at the ceiling when Blaine finished, his head tipped to the side in thought.

"I like it," he said, finally. "It's cute. What inspired you?"

Blaine thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick. "Wes and his girlfriend. Do you know how bipolar they are towards each other? They break up at least once a month, and then one of them wants the other but the other says they don't want them- last week Wes stormed into my room, shouting, 'doesn't she want the way I feel for her?' and that kind of inspired it."

Something in Kurt's face changed, and Blaine couldn't quite identify what it was. "Oh," he said, sliding off the bed.

"Where are you going?" Blaine said, noticing him heading for the door.

Kurt paused. "Nowhere. Everywhere."

"Wait, I thought maybe we could hang out today."

Kurt turned back, raising an eyebrow and pursing his lips slightly.

Blaine put on his puppy-dog face. "Please? It's Saturday. You can do your homework tomorrow."

"Blaine, it's nine o'clock at night?" Kurt asked, uncertainly. "What are we going to do? Curfew is in an hour."

"So here's what we do." Blaine grinned. "We check in now, and leave campus. We stay out all night, and sneak back in."

Kurt's eyes went wide, then narrowed as he grinned. "Sounds... amazing. But would perfect Blaine really do that?"

"I've never done it before," Blaine admitted, "but I figure, you're right about some things. This school is too damn uptight and sometimes, so are the people in it. It's time to do something crazy. So let's get out of here before we change our minds."

"Just a thought," Kurt said, "maybe we shouldn't wear our uniforms if we're trying to be inconspicuous."

Blaine looked down at his Dalton jacket. "Kurt, I'm going to be honest with you. I don't have any clothes here _besides_ my uniform."

"That explains a lot," Kurt muttered. He shuddered. "I don't know how you do it, Blaine. I could never part from my clothing. But I see your dilemma. You'll just have to borrow something of mine."

Blaine snorted.

"What?"

"I'm like two times wider than you," Blaine said. "Do you really think we'll fit in the same clothing?"

"We'll make it work," Kurt said, tossing a pair of jeans and a simple white t-shirt at him, probably the plainest clothing he owned. "Wear, this, too."

"A scarf?" Blaine said, sceptically, catching the piece of silky-feeling fabric in his hands. "A purple scarf, really? That's like screaming: 'I'm a homosexual, come throw me in a dumpster!'"

"You wear pink sunglasses, Blaine," Kurt said, from somewhere in his closet. "Don't start with me."

"Touche," said Blaine, and pulled on the clothing.

He hadn't expected it, but there was something intensely personal about wearing Kurt's clothing. It still _smelled_ like him- some sort of cologne that was slightly muskier than Blaine would have expected, but somehow a little flowery too- that was more like Kurt.

"I've got it," said Kurt, coming out of the closet, and Blaine quickly dropped the scarf back down around his neck before Kurt caught him smelling it.

Kurt, of course, was wearing one of his outlandish (for Ohio, anyway) yet stylish outfits- a bowtie, of course, a sweater, a slightly ruffled collared shirt, deep red pants, and knee-high leather boots that Blaine simply could not take his eyes off of.

He dragged his eyes back up to Kurt's face just in time to see him turning pink. "You look good," Kurt said uncertainly.

The balloon that was expanding in Blaine's chest at the sight of Kurt swelled a little bit more. "You, as well," he said.

Sneaking out of Dalton was much easier than it should have been. They merely needed to check in to the desk below, then sneak out the fire exit door (Kurt did something complicated with gum and tape to make sure the alarm wouldn't go off- Blaine decided he didn't want to know). Blaine's car was parked in the Junior lot outside, and the two of them slipped in, congratulating themselves on their supreme badass-ness.

"Where to?" Blaine asked, starting the engine and rubbing his hands together to warm them up before carefully pulling out of Dalton's parking lot.

"Lima," said Kurt. "I think we should visit my New Directions people."

"It's going to take a while to get there," said Blaine, doubtfully. "I mean, they'll probably be asleep."

"That's the point," Kurt said, a gleam in his eyes.

Blaine didn't question him after that.

The ride to Lima was a good one, mostly consisting of Kurt and Blaine singing Christmas carols to each other at the top of their lungs, each competing for who could go higher in vocal range (Kurt won).

"That... is just eerie," Blaine said, upon hearing Kurt hit a high-F. "In a good way, I mean. Like, I'm insanely jealous of you right now." He didn't mention how insanely turned on he also was, because he thought that might be a little bit un-mentor-y of him (although, at this point, he wasn't really being a mentor anymore. He'd snuck Kurt out of school. They could get in huge trouble for this). Also, it might creep Kurt out a little bit and then Kurt would stop singing and he did _not_ want that to happen. At all.

So they were singing at the top of their lungs just like that when they reached Puck's house.

"What should we do?" Blaine asked.

"I want to nail his lawn furniture to his roof." said Kurt, his lip quivering a little. It appeared as if he was trying to hold back a smile. "But it's December. And he has no lawn furniture outside."

"There's a lawn gnome in his front yard," Blaine said. "We could steal that."

"Yes, let's," said Kurt, decisively. "And let's take it back to Dalton with us, and bring it with us everywhere and take pictures with it. And send those pictures to Puck to freak him out."

"You're demonic."

"I try really hard," Kurt said, seriously, and they stole Puck's lawn gnome.

xxxx

_Say, wasn't that a funny day?  
Gee, you had a funny way—a way about you.  
A kind of glow of something new.  
Sure—I'll admit that I'm the same.  
Another sucker for a game kids like to play,  
And the rules they like to use. _

xxxx

Blaine heard the lyrics in his head as clearly as if they were being sung to him- and he knew what they were.

Mercedes' house was next. They had already decided to leave masses of flowers outside her door (the looks they received when they showed up in the local grocery store and bought out fifty percent of the flowers in the plant aisle were priceless), and a little card giving her their love. Similar things were done at Quinn and Tina's house, but to a lesser degree.

"We are _not_ doing anything to Finn," Kurt said, decisively. "Because my Dad will see it too and will kill me."

It was four in the morning when they slipped back into Blaine's car, armed with enough coffee to keep an army awake for weeks. Kurt drank so much he was fairly vibrating in his seat on the way home, his eyes wider than Blaine had ever seen them, and talking so fast that Blaine couldn't understand a single word.

The sky was a light, rosy shade of pink by the time they snuck back into Dalton's parking lot and cut the engine. The first few beams of sunlight were creeping over the hills as they snuck past the night watch, asleep at her desk.

Blaine and Kurt stopped just outside their room.

"I can't believe we actually got away with this," Kurt said in a whisper, looking back at Blaine.

"Let's get into our room first before we jinx it," Blaine said, with a nervous chuckle, turning the key in their lock.

They fell into the room with an audible sigh of relief, allowing the door to swing shut behind them.

"I really thought we would get caught," Kurt admitted, kicking off his shoes and falling back on his bed.

"I'm going to be honest, so did I," Blaine said, following suit.

There was a creak of bedsprings beside him, and he turned his head to see Kurt's face soveryclose to him, smiling. "I had fun, though."

Blaine couldn't think. Kurt's breath was on his face, hot and sweet and smelling of caramel and oh god, the feeling that he was about to die or maybe he was already dead and in heaven- his heart, not beating, maybe just swelling to the size of a large balloon in his chest, and his stomach was in his feet or maybe his throat- "so did I," he managed to get out, and Kurt smiled, and it was all he could do not to kiss him right then.

"Good night, Blaine," he breathed, and then Kurt was gone, and the bedsprings on the other side of the room creaked, and Blaine suddenly had his brain back.

"Good morning, Kurt," he said, thinking himself rather witty, and the other boy just laughed.

xxxx

_The sun: telling me the night is done.  
Well I refuse to let it stop our fun.  
Close your eyes—we'll make it dark again  
And kiss; there's a thought, so how 'bout this?  
Let's pretend that both our lips are made of candy.  
After all, we need sweets every now and then. _

**A/N: soooo... I'm really sorry that this took longer than usual. My only excuse is that... well, I've been busy. Had my first Christmas shopping experience of the year yesterday. And wtf. People out there- are rabid. Rabid animals, I kid you not. I had to fight with a woman over a pair of boots. **

**I'm way nervous about this chapter. I hope you guys don't hate it. It sort of came at like... late. and randomly. So it's weird. and not a lot of humor. sorry. **

**blah. anyways. here it is. **


	7. Cookies

**A/N: awwww, you guys! you're making me blush with all the feedback :) Um, to address some questions: unfortunately, no, I didn't write the song. Darren Criss did. It's from his iTunes album "Human" and it's called "Don't You". I feel as if most of Darren's songs somehow connect to Blaine and Kurt's situation (I mean, look at all the fics that include 'Not Alone' in them...) If you haven't heard his album, go listen to the songs. 'Don't You' is my favorite, but they're all good :)**

**Um, what else is there for me to address?**

**Wow, your feedback was wonderful. And is anyone else finding it slightly depressing that we have to wait until FEBRUARY for the next episode? Ah, well. I asked for the complete first season of Glee for Christmas (so hopefully I'll get it) and that should tide me over until February. Re-watching all my favorite episodes. I'm totally getting my roommate in on it, too. **

**YES, my pen name is from the book Lemonade Mouth, congratulations the darkness revealed, you are the first person to notice... or at least, point it out.**

**I want cinnamon rolls SO BADLY, and my throat is wicked clogged up with yellow gunk. Gross.**

**I'm supposed to be doing a report for psychology. I'll do it after this. Really, I will. **

**(I don't own Glee).**

"Blaine, I'm concerned about you."

"Why?" Blaine said, without looking at Wes. It was too early in the morning to concentrate on anything besides his Captain Crunch.

"I went into your room to wake Kurt up and I found a lawn gnome lying on your pillow wearing your pajama shirt."

Blaine choked on his cereal. David thumped him on the back.

"Is this some sort of weird kink you and Kurt have? Cuz it's really strange, kid."

Blaine was laughing too hard to explain.

In the end, Kurt appeared in the dining hall, looking rather bleary-eyed, and told Wes that he was hallucinating and there was no lawn gnome. Kurt's face was such a perfect combination of confused and innocent that Wes actually dashed back up the stairs to check Blaine and Kurt's room again for the gnome.

Kurt sighed, letting himself drop into the seat across from Blaine. David leaned forward. "Okay, now would you like to tell me where you two were last night?"

Both of their eyes widened.

"I snuck out of my room at about eleven to get your Chem textbook, Blaine, because I knew you weren't using it this year, and you were gone." David raised an eyebrow. "Both of you were, actually. I waited around for a little bit, but neither of you showed. So." He sat back in his seat. "Just where were you last night?"

"Do _not_ tell Wes," Blaine said, warningly.

David smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"We went to Lima," Kurt blurted.

David's eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline. "I'm sorry, _what_?"

"We went to Lima," Kurt repeated. "To visit my old Glee Club. And do strange things."

"And the lawn gnome...?"

"We stole it from Puck's yard. We've been sending him weird pictures of it on Blaine's phone, because it's creepier that way. He doesn't know Blaine's number."

"Hence the pajama top," David said, nodding in understanding.

"Yes, but I put the gnome in my pack before I came downstairs," Kurt said, pulling the rather large garden ornament out of his shoulder bag. "So Wes really is going to think he's delusional."

"Kurt, you are legitimately the coolest kid I've ever met," David said, seriously. "Sorry, Blaine. He's better than you."

"I know," Blaine said in despair. "It's absurdly depressing."

"What classes do you two have today?" Kurt asked, pulling his schedule out. "I've only got French and Math."

"None," said both Blaine and Wes smugly, high-fiving each other.

"How?" Kurt said, incredulously. "That's not fair at all!"

Blaine grinned. "Junior privileges. We get out of classes a day earlier than you."

"That's _really_ not fair," muttered Kurt. "It's only December 22nd."

"You won't have classes tomorrow," Blaine pointed out, "but the Freshmen will. It's kind of a seniority thing at Dalton. Seniors have class until the 21st, Juniors until the 22nd, Sophomores until the 23rd, and Freshmen until the 24th. You'll get out of class earlier next year."

"I hate you both," Kurt said, grabbing a pear from the bowl in the middle of the table and swinging his back up and over his shoulders. "So much." He pulled the gnome out of his bag again and tossed it at Blaine. "Those are the most ridiculous glasses, by the way."

Blaine pushed his wire-framed, rather dorky glasses up his nose and shrugged at Kurt, grinning.

"Love you too," David replied, cheerfully, as Wes skidded into the hall, his eyes wide.

"Kurt, there _is no lawn gnome_." He said desperately, clutching at Kurt's blazered arm.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," the other replied, casually winking at Blaine, and left the hall.

Blaine felt his insides flood with warmth at Kurt's wink, and nearly missed the looks Wes and David were exchanging.

"_What_?" Blaine said, defensively.

"Oh, nothing." Wes said. "We just noticed that you seem to be quite interested in the back pockets of Kurt's pants."

"Is it the designer label you're looking for?" David wondered. "I had no idea you were so interested in the world of fashionable pants, Blaine."

"Drop dead," Blaine said, standing up.

"You'd miss us too much," Wes said, waving a dismissive hand. "Where are you going?"

"Getting away from you two," Blaine said honestly.

"But we were going to make cookies and watch Elf!" David said, crossly. "You can't just bail on us, man. It's a tradition."

"Since when?"

"Since now, I just started it. And now that it's a tradition, you have to do it."

"Curse you."

The kitchen was (unsurprisingly) empty when Blaine, Wes, and David entered it. There were still scorch marks on the ceiling from last year's disaster, when Eric had tried to bake James a birthday cake and- well, most of Dalton had to be evacuated, and Eric had had to repaint the entire kitchen, by hand, as punishment. Evidently, the ceiling wasn't included, or perhaps the administration simply hadn't thought to look up when they'd inspected Eric's work. Either way, the scorch marks were still there, perhaps as a reminder that Dalton boys were not sent to such a school for their culinary skills.

Also, they were likely to make a massive mess, and this blazer was expensive as anything.

David appeared to be thinking along the same lines as Blaine. "Blazers and ties off, boys, aprons on," he said, as they all shed their outer layers in turn for the aprons that hung from a cast-iron coat rack by the door. Each apron was a deep blue, and embroidered with the Dalton crest. They appeared to never have been used. For some reason, this struck Blaine as sort of funny. He pulled off his glasses, resting them carefully on a countertop.

"There has to be a cookbook in here somewhere," Wes was muttering, already standing up on one of the granite counters, shuffling through random cabinets.

Somehow, the three of them got two of the ovens preheated and all of the ingrediants assembled for chocolate chip cookies.

It was strangely comforting to spend time with Wes and David. The three of them were dancing around the shared kitchen with cookie dough all over their fingers, waving their hands in the air and singing to Beatles songs at the top of their lungs.

_There's nothing in the world I'd rather do... 'cuz I'm happy just to dance with you..._

"I love you guys," David declared, throwing an arm around each of their necks.

"I kind of miss doing this," Blaine admitted. "We've all been so busy lately-"

"You mean, _you've_ been busy." Wes corrected. "With Kurt. But it's okay. We like the kid."

"Sure," Blaine said, not really listening. He pulled the gnome out of his bag, setting it on the counter beside a rack of cookies fresh out of the oven. He snapped a picture of it with his phone, then sent it to Puck.

"I _knew _there was a damn gnome!" Wes shrieked, pointing. "You've been holding out on me!"

"I'm going to... take him away, before he has a seizure." David said, casually. "Calm him down before we get started on Elf."

Blaine waved them both out of the room, then licked the cookie dough off his fingers, humming to himself as the next Beatles song started.

_I'll buy you a diamond ring, my friend, if it makes you feel all right. _

He began to belt out the rest of the lyrics as he danced around the kitchen, oven mitts on hands, apron covering his Dalton uniform. He knew he looked completely ridiculous- there was an absurd amount of flour in his hair, thanks to Wes- but for some reason, he really didn't care. For once.

_This must be how it feels to be Kurt. _To not care what people think, to not care if they whisper as you walk past in the hallways.

_I'll give you all I've got to give if you say you love me too... I may not have a lot to give, but what I've got I'll give to you. Cuz I don't care too much for money, money can't buy me love. Can't buy me love, everybody tells me so. Can't buy me love, no no no, no... _

The kitchen floor was tile, perfect for sliding on. He fell to his knees, sliding past the oven and sink, wailing on an air guitar.

_Buy me love... say you don't need no diamond ring, and I'll be satisfied... tell me that you want the kind of things money just can't buy..._

He ended with a final, dramatic strum on his air guitar, and suddenly became acutely aware of somebody watching him from the doorway. He squinted at the blurry figure for a bit before it giggled.

He'd know that giggle anywhere. Kurt.

"That was... very interesting," Kurt said carefully, stepping into the kitchen. "Also, please don't tell me you made this mess yourself, because it's oddly similar to World War I trench warfare. But scarier. And with less blood."

"Wes had a temper tantrum," Blaine replied, pulling off his oven mitts. "Have you seen my glasses?"

Kurt picked something up off the counter and held it up. "Here." He crossed over to Blaine, standing almost uncomfortably close. Blaine's skin prickled at the heat he was sure he could feel radiating off the other boy. Kurt slid the glasses slowly onto Blaine's nose, and as the world came into focus he could see the shy smile on the other boy's face. It did something to his heart.

_Wes, David, don't hate me for this. I'm only human._

He knew it was supposed to be a friends night. He knew Wes and David (as much as they loved Kurt) would be angry if he brought Kurt with him. But he couldn't help it. "As soon as this batch of cookies is out of the oven, I'm heading upstairs to the Senior Commons to watch Elf with Wes and David. Would you like to join us?"

It was worth his friends getting angry at him just to see the way Kurt's eyes lit up at the suggestion.

"I would love to," he said, shyly.

Blaine couldn't stop himself from smiling. "Great," he said, quietly, and for a moment it was only him and Kurt and Kurt and him standing there in the mess of a kitchen, smilingsmilingsmiling, and then the oven beeped and Blaine's phone buzzed simultaneously.

Kurt went to tend the oven, and Blaine went to check the text he'd just received on his phone.

**PUCK: **what the hell? who is this? why do you have my gnome? why is it covered in cookie dough?

xxxxx

"Elf! Elf! Elf!" Wes chanted. David, who appeared to be Wes' elected nanny for the evening (actually, he was Wes' nanny all the time, but it seemed as if Wes needed a nanny more than ever this particular night), settled the other boy into an armchair and turned, raising an annoyed eyebrow at Blaine.

"Look what you've done to him," he accused. "He's reverted to a state of childlike innocence."

"Innocence?" Blaine snorted.

"Stop pampering him," Kurt admonished. "You're feeding into his psychological problems. They're only going to get worse if you do."

David, in an act of extreme maturity, stuck his tongue out at Kurt, throwing himself into the squashy chair beside Wes.

Blaine, who was already sitting on the floor, his back leaning against the couch, patted the area beside him. Kurt rolled his eyes but smiled, moving over to him. "You do realize you're leaning against an empty couch, right? There's nobody sitting there. You can sit on the couch. You won't get in trouble."

"He prefers the floor," David called from where he was thumb-wrestling with Wes. Both of them appeared to be losing.

Kurt looked to Blaine, and the older boy nodded in affirmation. He'd always liked sitting on the floor better than sitting on couches or chairs. Wes and David constantly picked on him because in the library he would sit on the floor amongst the bookshelves, surrounded by piles of books. He could spend hours unmoved there, just reading on the library floor.

"I don't know if I've told you this." Kurt said, leaning forward and placing a hand on Blaine's knee. He was smirking, and his voice was so low Blaine had to lean in closer to hear. "But I really like your glasses."

Blaine felt his stomach erupt with flutters as if he'd just swallowed a mass of anxiously flapping butterflies, or perhaps moths. "Really?"

"They're dorky," Kurt conceded, "and unstylish. But that's part of their charm, I think. They're cute. And they look good on you."

He could feel the blush starting at the base of his neck, and reached one hand back to cover his neck, trying to be discreet. "Thank you."

Kurt smiled at him once more, then turned back to face front.

He didn't take his hand off Blaine's knee.

**A/N: Um... so yeah. That's it. **

**I don't want Blaine to ditch Wes and David for Kurt all the time, kind of like what Kurt was doing to Mercedes. So I had them have a little bit of friendship time (and then Kurt had to come along being all cute and Blaine had to invite him with them to Elf). **

**Um... so yeah! Reviews. Are appreciated.**

**Er... one of my best friends just texted me telling me she light her kitchen sink on fire (I'm not even sure how that's possible).**

**My other best friend texted me asking me if it was all right that she steal my brother's hair (she goes to the same college as him. Apparently she saw him on campus. She also sees Emma Watson all the time because she goes to BROWN, the lucky little bitch). **

**But the point is, why would she want my brother's hair?**

**What would she do with it?**


	8. Cleaning, Moisturizing, and Kidnapping

**A/N: SPAH! SPAH SPAH SPAH!**

**Um, yes. That is how obsessed with Spah I am. If you haven't read infraredphaeton's Spahverse on Livejournal, you are sure as hell missing out. It is wacked-out hilarious. Sometimes when I read it, I want to die laughing. **

**For that reason, I will share my favorite Spah quotes with all of you fine people:**

"He doesn't need oxygen to live. He runs on show tunes and rage."  
xxx  
"He can't help it. He's dramatic. He has supplements to keep him in check, but he never takes them."  
xxx  
"If I hadn't met your girlfriends, I would think you two were gay for eachother."  
"We're heterosexual life partners!"  
xxx  
"You have heard of speed limits, right?"  
"... speed what?"  
xxx  
"I like feeling approved of. It's a warm feeling in my chest. Like spicy curry."  
xxx  
"I can't help it. He's so cuddly. It's like being angry at a surprisingly suave koala."  
xxx  
"He was going to hug you. He does that. He's a freaking cuddle ninja."  
"I come in the dark of the night and steal your hugs."  
xxx  
"You're adorable. You're like a tiny action figure. In school uniform."  
xxx  
"Can I still disown you if we're not related?"

**xxx  
"If I eat all the pancakes before you get there, don't blame me."  
"That is a strange and unusual thing. I'm used to blaming everything on you."**

**SPAH forever. Yes, I did borrow Eric, but he will most likely not be featured much in this fic, and that is because I could not do his insanity justice. I really just couldn't. He's too weird for me. **

**DAHM I think I forgot the disclaimer last time. I DON'T OWN GLEE. But I do own Darren Criss ;) hell yeah. I just bought him. **

Somehow, they went from four boys shut up in the Senior Commons silently watching Elf to nearly all the Warblers crowding up the room, throwing popcorn, shouting crude jokes, and devouring most of the chocolate-chip cookies.

Blaine was vibrantly aware of Kurt's hand on his knee, that it had somehow crept up to intertwine pinky fingers with his own hand. He was also very vibrantly aware that his left arm was wrapped loosely around Kurt's waist, and every once in a while (he was sure he couldn't possibly be imagining this), Kurt would snuggle a fraction closer to Blaine.

Every time this would happen, David (who seemed to be watching them more than he was watching the movie) would shoot a look at Blaine. A look that said "what-the-hell-are-you-doing-come-on-he's-all-over-you-get-a-room-and-have-your-wicked-way-with-him" (or something to that effect). A look Blaine deliberately ignored.

Blaine would have said it was impossible for a room full of sugar-high teenage boys to fall silent as quickly as they did when "Baby, it's Cold Outside" came on.

Kurt buried his face in his hands, letting go of Blaine's (Blaine felt cold air rush in between his fingers).

It felt as if every single boy in the room was looking at Blaine and Kurt. And, when Blaine looked around- well, they were. How many people had Wes and David _told?_

It seemed everybody.

"They're staring," Kurt mumbled into Blaine's shoulder. The older boy could feel the vibrations from his mouth rumbling all through his body, sending a strange feeling down his spine.

"No, not all of them," Blaine tried to say reassuringly. "Okay, well, yes. Everyone is staring. Do you want to get out of here?"

He felt, rather than saw, Kurt nod.

He hadn't thought about what would happen when the two of them got up to leave the room. Instantly they were surrounded by catcalls and whistles, and cries of "Get it, Blaine!" "or... Kurt?" and laughter.

Blaine pushed the door shut behind them, and they both slumped against it.

"I am so embarrassed," Kurt muttered.

After a moment, Blaine started to laugh.

"This isn't funny," Kurt snapped.

Blaine kept laughing. He knew he was getting close to the point of hysteria- perhaps he'd already passed it- but he just couldn't stop. His entire body was shaking, there were tears running down his face, and yet he couldn't stop. And every time he pictured the boys inside the room jeering at them, or he opened his eyes to see Kurt's wide-eyed, reproachful stare, it only served to make him laugh even harder.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" Kurt finally asked, when Blaine had calmed down enough to converse.

Blaine swiped the back of his hand across his eyes. "I have no idea," he said, honestly. "I guess I just sort of realized that it was stupid of me to try to keep a secret in this school."

"Us singing together was a secret?" Kurt asked, with a look in his eyes that Blaine couldn't read.

"Not exactly," Blaine said. "I mean, I'd love for people to know that we sang together. Our voices sounded great." He tried to ignore what his brain was saying about the delicate blush that was crossing Kurt's cheekbones. "But I sort of knew they'd react like that- I know my Dalton boys. So I tried to keep it hushed up. For your sake."

Kurt raised an eyebrow, in an expression that so clearly said "bitch-please" that Blaine felt like laughing again. "If you were trying to keep it hushed up, maybe you shouldn't have told Wes and David."

"In hindsight, that probably wasn't the best idea I've ever had," Blaine admitted. "But I was-" he bit his tongue right before he said it. Happy. Because he _was_ happy- insanely so- when he left Kurt after their duet. He'd known as soon as the song ended that he was going to do something he'd regret if he stuck around, so he'd said something to Kurt in passing about how marvelous his voice was, and left as quickly as he could.

And skipped all the way back to his room.

When Wes and David had found out that bit, they'd had a field day.

"You were-"

"I was certain they wouldn't tell anyone," Blaine said, thinking on the spot, as he seemed to do a lot around Kurt.

Kurt snorted a bit. "I'm sorry, have you _met_ your friends? I can't believe you of all people could believe they'd keep a secret."

It was then that Blaine realized the Senior Commons were suspiciously quiet. The rooms weren't soundproofed, and on WoW night Blaine could usually at least hear the boys inside screaming obscenities, and when they fell silent, he could even hear the game soundtrack on occaison.

By this rule, there should have been at least _some_ noise coming from within the room- boys calling across the room or throwing pillows or hissing at each other to "_just shut up, will you, so I can watch the damn movie"_. Or the soundtrack to the movie. Or Will Ferrell's voice. Something.

The Warblers were quieter than Blaine had ever heard them (aside from at Warbler's Practice, when Wes got on his bitch voice, and it was actually quite scary because Wes knew Krav Maga), and that could only mean one thing.

They were eavesdropping.

"Kurt," said Blaine, as quietly as he could. "Let's go back to our room."

Kurt, who was by no means stupid, seemed to catch on immediately. "Go," he mouthed, waving his hands a little, and the two of them began to creep down the hallway as silently as was possible.

They got sidetracked on the way back to their room, however, by passing the kitchen, which was still a horrendous mess.

Blaine stopped dead. "You know the administration will kill us if we leave it like this."

"The administration is what made me think all of you had sticks up your asses my first days here," Kurt grumbled, following him through the doorway.

"It's mostly dry mess," Blaine reassured him. "Flour and such, you know. It won't take long."

"Fine," Kurt huffed. "But you owe me. Big time. I'm talking... full facial mode here."

Blaine, who would actually have done the whole facial thing _anyway_ if Kurt had just asked (he'd have to be crazy to pass up the opportunity for Kurt to touch his face like that), pulled an expression of mock horror.

"Fine," he consented. "I suppose that's fair." He tossed Kurt a broom. "Come on, we'll be done before you know it." Blaine plugged in his ipod, then pressed play on the wall stereo, and Helena Bonham Carter's voice filled the room.

"Sweeney Todd? Really?" Kurt asked, pausing in his sweeping motions.

Blaine merely grinned at him, waggled his eyebrows, and said the magic words: "Johnny Depp."

"Touché," said Kurt, and launched into a perfect Cockney accent. "_Business needs a lift... debts to be erased..."_

He continued to sing in the soprano voice of Mrs. Lovett, waltzing around the kitchen counters, broom in hand.

"For someone so skeptical of my choice in musicals, you sure know the words well," Blaine remarked wryly, and in doing so almost missed his queue. _"Mrs. Lovett, what a charming notion, eminently practical and yet appropriate as always, how I've lived without you all these years, I'll never know..."_

His and Kurt's voices joined together, blending seamlessly. By the end of the song, the kitchen was sparkling.

All there was left to do was wash the mixing bowls and cookie sheets. The two stood next to each other at the sink, scrubbing in companionable silence with the soft accompaniment of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas". Every once in a while, Blaine would gently bump his hip against Kurt's or Kurt would gently bump his hip against Blaine's, and they would grin at each other, hands brushing somewhere amongst the dishes and soap bubbles and dirty water.

Blaine's heart was in his throat every time that happened. It couldn't mean _nothing_, he kept telling himself. It just couldn't. There had to be something.

Finally, their hands met and there were no dishes between them, no matter how much they searched for more. Their fingers briefly intertwined underneath the soap bubbles, and Blaine gave a light squeeze before pulling his hands out of the water and toweling them off.

Kurt followed suit, a rather evil-looking grin on his face.

Blaine bumped his shoulder against the other boy's (which seemed to have become their sort of signature thing now). "What's the sadistic face for?"

"Facial time," Kurt said.

Blaine groaned.

xxxx

"You know, we let you two go unchaperoned back to your room because we thought you'd be making gay babies together up here," Wes said, upon entering the room. "Not lying on your separate beds, your faces covered in green slime."

"Stop talking," Blaine said. "We're trying to listen to the dulcet tones of Katy Perry."

"Your obsession really is getting unhealthy, Kurt shouldn't be allowing this." He listened for a moment. "Also, this is possibly the most awkward song you could possibly listen to of hers, given your situation. Peacock, Blaine, really? Is this some sort of twisted explanation for the green crap on your faces?"

"They're moisturizing masks," Blaine responded. Kurt hummed in agreement.

"You know, Blaine, sometimes I forget that you're gay, and then you go and do something like this."

"You never forget I'm gay," Blaine pointed out.

"That's because you never stop rhapsodizing about Neil Patrick Harris' voice, or Johnny Depp's facial structure, or Kurt's-"

"_Okay_, Wes," Blaine said, his face burning. "Enough. Go back to your room and bother David."

Wes pouted. "No. David won't play with me."

"What are you, five?" Kurt asked through thin lips, trying not to crack his mask.

"Don't answer that," Blaine said, as Wes opened his mouth to retort. "Your answer won't be funny."

Wes whistled to himself for a minute or two, then sighed. "You guys are boring."

"Sorry to disappoint. I did tell you to go bother David."

"No," Wes snapped. "I don't want to. I'm going to go nail all the ceiling tiles shut." He stormed out of the room.

Kurt attempted to raise one eyebrow at Blaine, but it was stuck.

"It irritates Eric a bit, you see," Blaine explained. "Because it takes him a little longer to get past all the nails, you know."

Kurt didn't even bother to question this kind of statement anymore.

"Can we wash this off yet?" Blaine finally asked, sounding as if he was straining to speak through the hardened green mass on his face.

Kurt checked the clock. "Sure. We should be fine now."

Blaine was the first to have it all off his face, and headed back to the room before Kurt. He was trying to push back one unruly curl in the mirror above his bed when he noticed a spot of green on his color. Several, actually. And not just on his collar, actually.

_Well, shit,_ he thought. He pulled it off, only to notice that not only had the moisturizing mask gotten all over his clean white shirt, it was also soaked through to his undershirt, as well. He pulled that off, too, then heard a slightly strangled noise come from behind him.

He spun to see Kurt staring at his chest, wide-eyed and red-faced.

He'd forgotten all about the scar. It sliced across his chest- nastier looking than it actually was, though.

He pulled a face. "I'm sorry, I know the scar's gross."

"Wh-what scar?" Kurt stumbled.

Blaine's brow furrowed. "You don't see it?"

"You have a scar?" Kurt asked, his eyes still fixated on Blaine's chest.

"Then what are you-" and shock froze Blaine's mouth, inhibiting breathing. If Kurt hadn't even noticed his scar, then what was he- could he possibly be staring at-

Blaine didn't have more time to assess the situation before Kurt had already pushed past him.

"The mask got on my shirts," Blaine said, gathering up his clothing in one hand and turning to look at Kurt, who was rummaging through his closet. "Did it get on yours, too?"

Kurt didn't turn around, but Blaine could hear the smile in his voice. "I've been putting on that mask since I was nine, Blaine. I haven't gotten it on my shirt in years." His tone was a little smug.

"I'm bringing them to the laundry before they stain," Blaine informed him, pushing the clothes into his laundry bag. "Do you have anything you want me to wash?"

"No, thanks," Kurt still hadn't turned around, and Blaine was beginning to find it rather odd.

"Uhm, are you okay?"

Finally, Kurt moved. "Fine," he said, his eyes focused on an area of wall above Blaine's head, rather than looking at his face. Was Kurt _mad _at him for some reason? "Shouldn't you put a shirt on?"

Blaine laughed, a little self-consciously. "I hadn't even thought about that. Yeah. Toss me one, would you?"

He caught the red t-shirt that read "Dalton Academy Swim Team" on it, thanked Kurt, and headed out of the room.

He could hardly remember the walk to the laundry room, let alone actually starting a load of laundry. His mind was so abuzz.

Kurt had been staring at his half-naked body. So, not so peculiar. People stared- the scar was nasty.

But Kurt hadn't even noticed it.

Which meant he had been staring at something else.

Could that mean- could Kurt possibly have been- checking him out?

He allowed that single, shining possibility to fill him up like helium.

_Kurt _may think _he _was attractive.

Maybe.

He left the room a few moments later, taking the stairs two at a time. The door was ajar when he reached it. Their room was empty.

"Kurt?" Blaine called, looking around wildly, as if Kurt might be hiding under the nightstand or in his guitar case.

No response. Kurt and his phone- and his winter coat- were gone. There was a sheet of paper lying on Blaine's bed. He picked it up.

xxxxx

_Dear Blaine (with the gorgeous hazel eyes and the voice that oozes sex appeal, or so we've been told),_

_ We, meaning New Directions, have taken it upon ourselves to kidnap your one Kurt Hummel, as retribution for the flowers on our porches (they were lovely, thank you). Artie would also like to add that he would rather have had flowers than the wreath you attached to his door, and Kurt would just like to add that Artie is ungrateful. _

_ Let it be said that Kurt did put up quite a fight, because (and I quote), he "wanted to spend more time with Blaine". However, the odds were as against Kurt as the numbers were. _

_ **Hey, gayboy, this is Santana. Sorry for the mixup that one time, the only gay guy I'm used to is Kurt and he's pretty much a walking stereotype. You give off the appearance of being straight. You should work on that. I was all for staying here and watching you and Kurt get your gay on together (wanky wanky ;) but Finn, Puck, Artie, and Mike seemed to find the idea somewhat disturbing, so we didn't. **_

_Anyway, (Rachel here again), we've taken Kurt for a little New Directions time and promise that he will be back in time for curfew, which we have been informed is 10 o'clock. We have a lot to discuss with him. We would have taken you with us, you know, but a lot of what we have to discuss involves you._

_ **Meaning if you break my boy, I break you. -Mercedes**_

_Disregard that. _

_Sincerely,_

_ Rachel Berry, N. Puck, Artie Abrams, Brittany Pierce, Santana Lopez, Finn Hudson, Mike Chang, Tina Cohen-Chang, Mercedes Jones, Quinn Fabray, Sam Evans (and Kurt Hummel)_

_**P.S. I took my gnome back from Kurt, and dude, I'm really scared of you in a respectful sort of way. -Puck**_

xxxx

**A/N: Here's my reasoning for why Kurt has been so badass. He was timid at Dalton in the beginning, but now that he's become more comfortable there, he's letting "Kurt" shine through. I mean, how could you go through a few years at McKinley as a gay kid and not come out with a thick skin? He may be fabulous, but he's from Lima, and from McKinley. So the kid knows how to pick locks.**

**And he gets weird prank ideas from the football team. Like the time they nailed his lawn furniture to his roof. **

**Review!**


	9. King's Island Christmas Spectacular

**A/N: I'm skiing tomorrow! I'm so excited!**

**So um… I posted a one-shot from Kurt's POV of his kidnapping last chapter. It's called "The Kidnapping of Kurt Hummel", for whoever's interested. **

**I'm not failing psych! Oh, frabjous day! **

**Sorry, I'd make this longer BUT I'M ON A LIBRARY COMPUTER.**

**That's all. I love you all, though, thank you THANK YOU for your marvelous reviews!**

**Darren frikkin' Criss, my best friend and I have decided, is either a robot or Jesus. He has to be one or the other. He's too perfect.**

**(Disclaimer of not owning Glee)**

Blaine watched through slitted eyes as Kurt slipped into the room, then his eyes slid over to the clock.

12:30.

"Curfew was two and a half hours ago," he said, and Kurt jumped and cursed.

"You scared me!" he gasped, pressing a hand to his chest.

Blaine sat up, the covers falling off of him, and crossed his arms. "You're lucky I had Wes cover for you."

Kurt glanced over at the bed on the other side of the room. Wes' dark hair was barely visible poking over the top of the covers. "You're the best."

"Did you have fun with your Glee Club?"

"Not mine anymore," Kurt reminded him, "and yes. Actually, I had a lot of fun, as annoying as they can be." He didn't elaborate, and Blaine was too afraid of being nosy to ask him to.

Kurt unbuttoned his blazer, hanging it up in his closet beside his other Dalton regulation uniforms, and reached for a pair of pajama pants and a blanket. He threw both on the floor.

"What are you doing?" Blaine asked, confused.

"Sleeping on the floor," Kurt replied, equally as confused. "You know how Wes gets when we wake him up."

"He has some resemblance to a freshly woken hibernating bear," Blaine agreed. "But I don't see why that means you have to take the floor."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Where else would I sleep?"

"How about up here?" Blaine suggested. "The beds are big enough."

Kurt's lips pursed, and Blaine could nearly see the arguments that were going on in his brain.

Finally, Kurt heaved a sigh and climbed up next to Blaine. "To be honest, I don't think I can sleep," he admitted. "I'm too hyped up." And Blaine somewhat forgot how to breathe as Kurt's hand folded into his.

Blaine rolled onto his side to look at Kurt. "Then don't," he suggested. "Stay up and talk to me. Tell me about your Glee Club. I want to know what they're like."

Kurt laughed. "Rachel would accuse you of sabotage."

"What Rachel doesn't know won't hurt her."

Kurt blinked a little, as if trying to figure out if Blaine was serious, then grinned. "I don't want to keep you awake. Because trying to describe them will take all night."

"You've got an espresso machine on your bedside table," Blaine informed him politely. "I think I'm all set." He sat up, moving to sit cross-legged at the head of the bed, while Kurt moved further towards the foot.

They faced each other, knees barely touching, and Blaine poured himself a cup of coffee. He nodded at Kurt. "Shoot."

And Kurt began. Blaine watched in silence as Kurt described his various Glee Club members, gesticulating wildly as if to prove certain points. He learned of Diva Rachel Berry, with her "holier-than-thou" attitude (although in her case, it was more of a "more-talented-than-thou" attitude. He learned of Finn, Kurt's new stepbrother, and even learned of Kurt's slightly borderline stalker behavior towards him. He heard about Tina, the blue-haired Asian with the sweet voice and personality, and Quinn, who "honestly seems like a bitch," Kurt said, "because she's a cheerleader. But she's under a lot of stress most of the time and last year she had a freaking baby, so you can't really blame her", and Puck, who "tries to act so badass all the time, and on some level he actually is, but he really cares about the Glee Club and everyone in it", and Mike, who apparently never said much and couldn't really sing but could dance like nobody's business and had a killer set of washboard abs.

By the time the first streaks of sunlight his the sky, Kurt was slumped across the bed, sound asleep, and Blaine was leaning against the headboard, insanely buzzed from six cups of coffee. He had so much _energy_, and he just couldn't figure out what to do with it. His fingers needed to do something. They were drumming anxiously on his lap.

He reached for his guitar, and strummed a few chords, trying to figure out what to sing. Somehow the words just fell from his lips- a song he'd neither heard nor sung in more than a few years.

_So she said what's the problem, baby? What's the problem, I don't know, well, maybe I'm in love-love- think about it, every time I think about it, can't stop thinking 'bout it- how much longer will it take to cure this? Just to cure it cuz I can't ignore it if it's love- love…_

As he sang softly, his eyes fell onto the curve of Kurt's face, and he smiled at the completely and totally at-ease look on the boy's face. Kurt rarely looked as relaxed as he did at that moment, his face pressed up against Blaine's covers, his mouth slightly open.

_Come on, come on- turn a little faster, come on, come on- the world will follow after, come on, come on- because everybody's after love…_

He hadn't even heard Wes wake up or get out of bed (which was difficult, as Kurt's bedsprings were notoriously squeaky), he'd been so focused on the song and Kurt. Which is why he jumped about a foot when a hand landed on his shoulder.

"It's slightly creepy that you're watching him sleep," Wes said, but he was smiling to let Blaine know that he was kidding. "You should probably get ready."

Blaine blinked. "For?"

"Isn't your 'Baby, it's Cold Outside' thing tonight? You have 'rehearsal-BICO-all day' written on your calendar."

Blaine jumped off the bed, throwing his guitar to the side (as gently as one could throw an instrument that expensive). The action woke up Kurt, who blinked and yawned, looking somewhat like a newborn kitten. The adorable motion was not lost on Blaine, who suddenly felt an insane urge to cuddle with the slighter boy.

"Wassgoinon?" Kurt mumbled sleepily, and the cuddle-urge increased tenfold.

"Blaine just realized he's an idiot and he's got his little King's Island Christmas Spectacular thing today and he's forgotten about it," Wes said, throwing a pillow at Blaine, which was clearly helpful as it hit him in the back of the head.

"Get out of my room, Wes," Blaine said, before diving under the bed.

Kurt blinked blearily, and only managed a "what?"

"The Baby, it's Cold Outside performance I told you about," Blaine called from somewhere deep underneath his bed.

"What are you looking for?" Kurt asked, feeling ridiculously out of the loop.

"My costume," Blaine panted, crawling out from under his bed and dragging a large cardboard box with him.

Wes, who was gathering his things up from the bed, paused to grin. "How do-"

"Do _not_," Blaine interrupted, fairly certain that whatever Wes was about to say would make either him or Kurt uncomfortable. He sent Wes an "I-will-_kill_-you glare from behind Kurt's back. "And get out."

Wes shrugged, gathered up the last of his things, and moved for the door. "Have fun, then. But not _too _much fun, if you know what I mean." He winked.

Kurt threw a shoe at him. He dodged it easily, saluted them both, then shut the door behind him.

Blaine sighed deeply. "Wes really bothers me sometimes," he said, and lifted the lid of the box.

"Is that Armani?" Kurt gasped.

Blaine shrugged. "I wouldn't know. My mother sent it for me to wear." He lifted the suit from the box.

Kurt blinked. "You're- you're really rich, aren't you?"

Blaine colored a little, and very carefully considered his next words. "I don't like talking about how much money my family has," he said, slowly. "Mostly because I don't think who _I _am is based off of how much money I have. And most of the guys here have just as much money. But mostly, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I know your family doesn't have a ton of money- not to say you're poor, just that you're not rolling in dough," he added, quickly. "And I don't mean to sound snobby when I say I have no idea what kind of suit that is."

Kurt was smiling slightly. "It is Armani. The new collection. May I see it on?"

His voice was so calm and gentle that Blaine sighed in relief. "Sure," he said, taking the suit from Kurt.

Kurt turned his back as Blaine dressed, to give him a little privacy.

The suit was so _comfortable_, Blaine realized. That was unexpected. He'd always thought suits had to be the slightest bit uncomfortable, to keep one's posture straight and to keep one's attitude one that would befit such an elegant ensemble. But the suit _flowed_. It clung to his body, feeling something like wearing a cloud. Or what Blaine imagined wearing a cloud would feel like, since he'd never actually worn one.

He slipped the jacket on over his shoulders, and stepped into the shoes. He coughed lightly to let Kurt know he was done dressing.

When the other boy turned, he held out his arms. "What do you think?"

For a long moment, Blaine felt horribly ridiculous-looking under Kurt's quiet scrutiny.

Then Kurt spoke. "You need a tie." He reached into the box, drawing out an expensive silk tie, crimson red. He stepped closer to Blaine, focusing on looping the tie around the other's neck and creating an intricate knot to tie it.

Blaine was simply concentrating on breathing. Every once in a while, Kurt's fingers would brush the skin of Blaine's throat and Blaine's breathing would stutter.

Finally, Kurt stepped back. "You look incredible," he said, quietly. "And I'll be there to see you tonight."

xxxxx

Blaine was relieved that the girl he was performing the duet with seemed to realize right away that he wasn't attracted to her at all. He was pretty sure that she knew, even, that he wasn't attracted to girls in general. In fact, he was pretty sure their initial meeting had gone something like this:

Blaine: Hello, I'm Blaine.

Girl: Hello, I'm Gina. You're gay, aren't you?

Blaine: Yes. Yes I am.

Perhaps not exactly like that, but that was how Blaine remembered it in his mind.

He was right about one thing, he thought, as their duet drew into the _if you got pneumonia and died_ part of the song (he didn't lean over to this girl across their makeshift couch because he didn't want to kiss her like he'd sure as hell wanted to kiss Kurt). He'd been right about the fact that Kurt would be way better than _that girl_. Because as lovely a singer as Gina was (and this whole bit really wasn't her fault), she couldn't pull off the lovely, coy, flirtatious way that Kurt could sing "Baby, it's Cold Outside".

Blaine could tell just by looking at her that Gina was used to being the chaser, not the chased, and with Kurt it was the other way around. So really, Kurt had been far more perfect for this role than Gina, not just in that he was a boy and Gina was a girl (because Blaine refused to admit that factor was part of the argument at all).

But Kurt was watching, in the audience, so Blaine really did put in an effort for his sake (and for the sake of the Armani suit).

As they bowed, Blaine locked eyes with Kurt, and a smile was unable to keep from crossing his face. Unfortunately, Gina was a perceptive girl. She noticed.

"So it's him, is it?" she said, thoughtfully, as they moved backstage.

By the sinking feeling in his stomach, Blaine already knew what she was talking about. But he chose to play dumb (as he normally did, when faced with awkward or uncomfortable situations). "What's him?"

She rolled her eyes. "The porcelain-faced kid with the perfect lips in row three. The one wearing Alexander McQueen- quite a catch, by the way. He's what makes your heart pound, isn't he?"

"His name's Kurt," Blaine said, not quite admitting to anything.

Gina tilted her head, and was perceptive once more. "He has no idea how you feel about him, does he?"

"No," Blaine said, admitting something this time.

And after that they couldn't talk anymore, because Kurt was backstage and saying _"Blaine, that was amazing," _and hugging him, and whispering in his ear in the rather vain way only Kurt could- "_but you're right, I was better"_.

Gina met his eye over Kurt's shoulder, and her eyes were sparkling, and Blaine felt a rush of compassion for a small-town girl in Ohio who could not only accept him exactly the way he was (when she had never met him before, when they would probably never see each other again), but could talk with him easily about the boy who he was in love with.

Hope, after all, comes out of the strangest situations.

**A/N: short chapter, yes, but the next one is MASSIVE. Okay, not massive, but very large. For me. Review!**


	10. Christmas

**A/N: A/N: This is long, and I didn't write it, but it's worth it to read it. I wish I could say who the OP was but I really have no idea. It is someone's opinions on 'Special Education', and they captured my thoughts exactly as well as putting it better than I ever could. So here it is: **

**I'll be the first to admit that my knee-jerk reaction to this episode was that the writers had done a poor job. I felt they'd strayed from Blaine's character almost entirely. However, the more I watch it (I've probably seen the K/B parts about 8 times now), the more I realize that this episodes' characterization of Blaine was**_** perfect. **_**Allow me to explain.**

**One of the comments we heard most often after "The Substitute" was that Blaine seemed more 'feminine' - for lack of a better word**_** - **_**than he seemed in "Never Been Kissed". After seeing this week's episode, this seemingly incongruous writing totally makes sense. At school we see one Blaine and elsewhere (particularly with Kurt) we see another. Now, certainly we all wear different hats and act more proper at some places than others, but it seems that Blaine is dealing with more than that - he's a bit repressed.**

**Kurt basically lives the definition of 'let your freak flag fly'; and while Blaine's natural freak flag may not be quite as freaky as Kurt's, he's lost something as a result of being bullied and choosing to come to Dalton.**

**Dalton is not gay Hogwarts - and thank goodness for that! Being at Dalton requires Blaine (and now Kurt) to fit a mold. Yes, they have strict policies against discrimination to protect Kurt and Blaine, but having such policies tends to dampen everyone's individuality. In "Never Been Kissed", Blaine fully admitted to Kurt that he ran away from his bullies, he didn't stand up to them.**

**Adding all this up, the Blaine we see in this latest episode - repressed Blaine - is completely in character.**

**Upon transferring to Dalton, Kurt receives a warbler - a singing bird in a cage - and in one of the final scenes Blaine explains that the bird has "got food, water and seems to like his cage." He reassures Kurt that Pavarotti will live just fine. All of Blaine's advice to Kurt in this episode really does come from a place of love and genuine desire to keep Kurt safe and help him fit in at Dalton - but this advice is warped by his repression.**

**It strikes me that Blaine has learned to be comfortable in his cage; while Kurt uses his cage only for overall protection and he is brave enough to almost immediately go back to visit McKinley (albeit he actively avoids Karofsky while he's there).**

**I'm frustrated that I didn't understand this dichotomy in Blaine on my own before, but I am so glad it's there. It makes him so much more real. I was very worried he was going to become Kurt's gay genie.**

**A great deal has been said about Blaine being Kurt's mentor, but not much has been said about what Kurt can give to him. Reciprocation is key in any relationship. Their dynamic needs to be balanced. Kurt can't do all the taking and now we know he won't.**

**Blaine spends the duration of this episode basically staring at and swooning over Kurt. Remember the song Blaine sang at sectionals?**

_**Watching you is the only drug I need….you're the only one I'm dreaming of.**_**  
**_**I can be myself and finally, in fact there's nothing I can't be. **_**  
**_**I want the world to see you be with me.**_

**The writers didn't pick that song by accident.**

**Blaine's the only one that laughs at Kurt's jokes and appreciates him fully because he was once very similar to Kurt. I am so excited to see how Kurt can have an impact on Blaine's life. I think in the end they will compliment each other nicely; even more than they do now.**

**There was a decent amount of hate flying around after this episode, people immediately changing their minds about their love for Blaine, but if anything, I love him more for his flaws. We all have them. We all have struggles.**

**I'm really glad these two boys have found each other so they can help each other to grow and mature in their own ways.**

**(xxx)**

**Okay so I think somebody asked about Blaine's scar? I forgot to mention this in the last chapter I posted, but honestly, no tragic back-story there. He wasn't abused or anything, no bad bully stories. Really, I just imagined him doing something incredibly stupid like accidentally biking into a parked car or something (not that I've ever done that... or anything... not that I have a scar to prove it...)**

**So I've been freaking out over this particular chapter, writing and re-writing it for over two weeks (not kidding or exaggerating). That's why it's super-long- I just could NOT figure out where to break it off to make it into 2 chapters. So finally I said "screw it" and I'm posting it as a Christmas gift to you guys. I hope you enjoy, but if you don't, don't hate me. This is the chapter I've been most uncertain about, for a really long time. Merry Christmas, Everyone!  
**

**Generic Disclaimer of not owning Glee. Insert witty comment here.**

"I think that's the last of it," Blaine said, latching his suitcase shut and folding his black wool peacoat over his arm. "You got everything, Kurt?"

Kurt turned away from the window, frowning. "I feel bad."

Blaine sighed, pulling Kurt into a hug before chuckling. "Don't. Your dad doesn't know me from Adam. Why would he let me spend break at your house when it's your first Christmas together as a family?"

"I still feel bad."

"Don't," said Blaine again. "I'll be with Wes. And it's isn't as if your father said I couldn't visit a few times. Just that I can't stay the vacation. Wes' house is only two hours from yours. I'll visit every other day, if you want me to."

"Every day," Kurt said, his voice muffled by Blaine's sweater.

Blaine laughed, a thrill running through him at Kurt's words. He pulled back. "I think that might make your dad the tiniest bit angry."

Kurt smirked. "Maybe a little. Come visit anyway."

"Trust me, after one day with Wes' family, I'll be begging to visit you," Blaine said. "Do you need me to help you carry your things out?"

"No," Kurt said, rather stubbornly. "But you may walk me to my father's car, if you like."

In the end, Blaine did end up carrying one of Kurt's suitcases and he and Burt greeted each other warmly, shaking hands and exchanging pats on the back.

"I'm going to go check you out with the Dean," Burt said, patting his son's shoulder. "Blaine, if you leave before I come back-" the two of them shook hands, and Burt left, trudging away through the snow.

"Ready to go?" Wes asked from behind him. Blaine jumped, then stared at him. Was he going crazy, or was that possibly the most normal thing Wes had ever said?

David appeared behind Wes, toting his own suitcase. He looked pissed.

"I'm driving you home?" Blaine asked in surprise.

"No," David corrected, shoving his bag in the trunk. "You're driving me to Wes' with you, because apparently I can't go home either. Partly due to the fact that my parents ditched me for a second honeymoon to fucking France."

"What's the other part?" Kurt asked curiously.

"David's dependency issues," Wes said, wisely. "He doesn't know how to be apart from me."

David moodily opened the back door and tried to slouch into the car, but was blocked by Wes.

"David does attach himself to you rather like an octopus, but with less limbs," Blaine observed thoughtfully. Kurt snorted from beside him.

"No shit, Sherlock," Wes said, trying to pry David's arms off his leg.

"But you're also strangely attached to him. You cried the first time you didn't have a class together," Blaine pointed out.

David, who had been pouting before now, perked up at this. "Really?"

"No," Wes said, vehemently, but his rapidly shifting eyes gave him away.

"You do care," David cried happily, throwing himself into Wes' arms.

"Flaming homos," Blaine muttered as the two fell, tangled, into his backseat.

"I will never understand the dynamics of your friendship with each other." Kurt rolled his eyes, but he was grinning.

The corners of Blaine's mouth turned up. "Text me when you get home." He wrapped his arms around Kurt.

"I'll see you soon," Kurt whispered in his ear, as Burt's shape appeared once again through the light snowfall, clutching a few papers in his hand.

Blaine stood back and just looked at Kurt for a moment, memorizing the image before him. White flakes of snow peppered his hair like confetti, his cheeks and nose were an attractive shade of pink. His eyes were a light green-gray today, sparkling in the morning air. Their breath puffed in warm clouds around them, mingling together.

"Bye, Kurt," he whispered, and Kurt smiled (with his teeth, for once).

He watched Kurt drive away with a sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought of having to go two weeks without Kurt's familiar breathing lulling him to sleep every night.

_Don't be a baby, _the voice in his head (which bore and uncanny resemblance to David) chided him. _Your co-dependence upon him is sickening._

_ Get out of my head,_ Blaine snapped, then questioned his own sanity.

xxxx

"DAVID!"

Wes winced, then turned to David and began to speak rapidly. "I do apologize for my sister she still has an unhealthy obsession with you she stole your school picture from me and made a collage of your future wedding with her just try not to encourage her in any way or I'll never hear the end of it and-"

Before he could finish, however, he was cut off by a flying mass of pink and yellow fur, which flew out of nowhere and landed on David, knocking him over.

Blaine watched as Sarah smothered David' face in kisses, and tried to suppress a laugh. Wes was pulling on his blazer, frowning. He was used to all of David' attention being on him, rather than the rapidly jabbering nut of a seven-year-old sister he had to deal with during summers and major holidays.

"I'm going to go put all our stuff up in your room," Blaine said to Wes.

"Sure, sure," Wes said, waving an absent hand and fixing his nonexistent laser-beam eyes on his sister. "I know Krav Maga," he whispered, seemingly no longer aware of Blaine's presence.

Blaine chuckled to himself, heading upstairs. Once he was a safe distance from possible ridicule, he checked his phone.

1 new text.

**KURT: **So... Finn is talking about football. He's following me around, talking about football. And my/our room is... I want to cry.

Blaine's thumbs quickly traveled across his keyboard.

**BLAINE: **Take a shower.

**KURT: **Wes...?

**BLAINE: **No, really, it's Blaine. I find that the best way to re-acquaint oneself with one's home is to take a shower.

**KURT: **Wow. I never would have thought of that. I'll do that while Finn takes a breather from his football rant. I'll be back in about 30 min.

_Do NOT picture Kurt in the shower_, Blaine told himself firmly.

Too late.

Maybe it was time for a nice, cold shower himself.

He stripped down, digging through his bag for a towel, then padded into the bathroom, turning on the shower- to the coldest temperature he could possibly make it.

David banged on the door. "Don't use up all the hot water, Blaine! I want a shower next."

Wes' voice, slightly muffled by the bathroom door: "Oh, he won't be using any hot water. He's still got a fresh image of Kurt in his head. Wasn't he wearing those kinky plaid bondage shorts again today?"

Laughter.

Then Sarah's voice: "what does that mean?"

"I'll tell you when you're older, kid."

And their footsteps faded away.

Blaine leaned back against the shower wall, running a hand through his hair and sighing. Once he'd sufficiently... cooled down, he turned the water to a slightly warmer setting and went through a normal bathing routine, which for Blaine included singing an eight and a half minute rendition of "American Pie" into his bar of soap.

Just as he stepped out of the shower, his phone buzzed- uncanny timing.

Blaine, still dripping wet, picked it up and held it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, Blaine?"

Just his voice sent a rush of warmth through him. "Kurt, what's up?"

"Er." Kurt sounded slightly nervous, but Blaine couldn't imagine why. "My dad was wondering... uh, Christmas Eve is sort of a big deal to Carole and now I guess it's a big deal to Dad, too. Anyway, we're having a small party and Dad wanted me to invite you. I apologize for the short notice."

Blaine was grinning like a fool. "I would _love _to, Kurt." He said, happily. "I just ask for fair warning so I can prepare myself- who's going to be there?"

"Uhm, my grandma, a few of Finn's relatives, and New Directions."

Blaine's grin slipped a little. "I'm meeting your Glee Club?"

"Well, they're not exactly my Glee Club anymore, are they?" Kurt teased. "Yes. You're meeting my friends. Are... you okay with that?" he sounded uncertain again.

"Yes!" Blaine said, a little too loudly. He quieted himself. "I mean, yes, sorry. I would love to meet your friends. I'm just nervous, you know. First impressions and all that."

"Well, you've already met Mercedes," Kurt said, "and she told me she likes you. You'll win over Santana in like, two seconds because you're h- attractive," (Blaine tried so hard not to notice that Kurt seemed to switch words abruptly here), "And you've sort of met Rachel and she can be bossy but she only wants me to be happy so she'll like you."

"Are you saying you're happy when you're with me?" Blaine teased, not anticipating the serious answer he received in return.

"Yes. Very much so."

A swarm of excitable jellyfish seemed to have filled his veins. "Thank you."

There was a moment of silence, then Kurt hurried on. "Puck might give you a hard time, but don't worry about him. You already know Sam and he has a pretty high opinion of you so that'll influence Quinn's opinion. Artie likes your voice and Brittany likes your hair, Mike's really easy going and so is Tina. And Mr. Schue- well, I've told him about you."

_What have you told him? _Blaine's mind begged, but he simply said, "he looked pissed at Sectionals."

"We were good. He was threatened. So you don't mind coming?"

"It's an honor, Kurt."

He heard a light sigh on the other end. "Perfect," Kurt said, quickly. "So I've got to go get dressed-" (Oh lord, there went his brain again) "-and help get everything ready. Could you get here around, say, six?"

"Sounds great," Blaine replied. "I can't wait to see you."

"I'll be counting down the minutes. Bye, Blaine."

"Bye, Kurt."

He spent the next five minutes dancing around the bathroom in nothing but a towel. His celebrations ended only when he slipped on a puddle of water and hit the floor, hard.

"Mother f-"

xxxx

Wes fixed Blaine's collar, then stepped back beside David to admire his handiwork.

"They grow up so fast, don't they?" he asked fondly.

David patted at his eyes with a tissue. "I'm tearing up a little."

"I'm right here, you know," Blaine said.

"Aw, don't cry," Wes ignored Blaine. "There will still be room in Blaine's heart for us, even when he and Kurt move in together and have their big gay wedding."

David perked up. "I call Best Man!"

"No," Wes said, scowling, and smacked David across the arm. "I get to be best man."

"Why you?" David whined.

"Because I'm manlier, and because I can go all Krav Maga on either of their asses if they get cold feet."

"Goddammit, Wes, then what do I get to be?"

"The Maid of Honor!"

"GUYS!"

Both boys turned to look at Blaine, who had his arms crossed impatiently. "I have to leave in five minutes. Is this okay?"

"Very handsome," Wes said, reassuringly. "I approve of your style choice."

"I'm wearing the Dalton Uniform." Blaine said, uncertainly. He really didn't have anything else in his closet that would be appropriate for a party setting.

"And it's very handsome." Wes replied, tossing Blaine's car keys at him.

Blaine rolled his eyes and headed towards the door.

"Make good choices!"

"Back by twelve!" David added. "Unless, of course, you and Kurt are getting it on, in which case by all means stay as long as you like!"

"I hate you all," Blaine muttered under his breath, searching his coat pocket for a chapstick.

Kurt called an hour into his drive to Lima.

"Hey, Blaine?"

"Yes?"

"Are the roads getting icy? My dad has been watching the news, and he's worried you might spin out or something."

"Um, a little slippery right now, but nothing I can't handle. I'm about an hour away."

"And it's five o'clock on the dot. Always so punctual."

"It's a flaw of mine," Blaine agreed. "I'll see you soon, Kurt."

It appeared as if the party was already in full swing when Blaine arrived an hour later. He pulled up against the sidewalk, wondering just how many relatives Finn _had_.

Kurt must've been watching for his car, though, because he was out the door and down the walkway before Blaine had even reached the end of the driveway. He ran to Blaine, slipping a little on the slick pavement. There was a moment of awkward hesitation, before Kurt tackled Blaine. They both fell to the ground, limbs tangled together, and for a moment neither of them moved.

Blaine automatically folded into the embrace, reveled in it, thanking any God that might exist for this amazing boy who, at the moment, was entirely focused on _him_.

He could feel Kurt's skin against his neck, then Kurt's mouth moved, and the feeling of it against Blaine's throat sent shivers down his spine. "I'm so happy you came."

"I am, too," Blaine said, sincerely. "Now go introduce me to your friends."

Kurt stood up, pulling Blaine with him, and kept that hand attached to Blaine's. "This way, if I go down, you'll either catch me or go down with me," he explained as they neared the front door, but Blaine couldn't shake the feeling of a boyfriend about to be introduced to his significant other's parents. Except, in this case, his friends.

"Blaine's here!" Kurt called as he opened the door, and almost instantly Sam barreled into the hall, Rock Band guitar still in his hand.

"Good, because you've been at the window waiting for him since-" Sam cleared his throat. "I mean, Dude!" He rushed forward to hug him. Blaine, taken a little by surprise over the very blond hair on Sam's head, hugged him back, and tried to gage the difference in the way Sam hugged him verses the way Kurt hugged him. The only thing that seemed to be different was the length of the hug, and the tackling-to-the-ground part.

"Quinn!" Sam yelled at Kurt's door, holding Blaine at arm's length. "Dude, you look great. Haven't gotten any taller, I see."

"What on earth have you done to your hair?" Blaine asked, and both Sam and Kurt laughed.

A very pretty blond girl rounded the corner, one Blaine recognized from Kurt's various photos of the McKinley High New Directions on their corkboard back at Dalton. This must be Quinn Fabray.

"Hi, I'm Blaine," he said, reaching out for a handshake.

"Quinn," she responded, taking it. "Kurt has told us a lot about you." She shot a grin at the boy in question. Blaine slid his eyes to the side to see that Kurt was blushing. Furiously. And making a "kill the conversation" sort of gesture.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Quinn."

Quinn laughed. "What a gentleman. You're exactly how Kurt described you, too."

He was longing_, longing _ to know how Kurt had described him. But he refused to sound desperate and ask.

Mercedes joined them in the hall, and pulled Blaine into an unexpected hug. "Blaine, nice to see you, boy!"

Surprised but pleased (Mercedes had always sort of given off the 'I'll-cut-you' vibe to him), Blaine hugged her back. Mercedes handed him a Rock Band microphone. "Okay, white boy. Let's see how dreamy you can sing without a host of boys behind you."

She linked arms with Kurt to drag him downstairs to Kurt's bedroom. He rolled his eyes apologetically at Blaine.

A blond girl in a cheerleading uniform was leaning back on Kurt's immaculately made bed, next to an attractive Latino girl- Santana Lopez; Blaine recognized her from their encounter in the McKinley cafeteria. A boy in a wheelchair was rocking out on the other Rock Band guitar, while Finn attacked the drums. An Asian couple was making out on the couch, and Puck was sitting on a beanbag in the corner, clutching his lawn gnome possessively. Rachel Berry was nowhere to be seen, although her voice could be heard overhead.

Kurt cleared his throat. Finn looked up, missing a couple notes, and his face lit up. He paused the game.

"Blaine! Man!" He yelled, getting up to slap Blaine on the back. "Sorry, man- If you didn't know- I'm Finn. Kurt's brother. He's told me so much-" he caught Kurt's eye and fell silent.

"Blaine, this is Finn Hudson," Kurt said, primly. "And that's Artie, Tina, Mike, and Brittany. I think you already know Santana and Puck."

At this, Puck clutched his lawn gnome more tightly against him.

Blaine smirked.

From above, there was a general, scattered call of "PIZZA'S HERE!"

It was amazing how quickly the New Directions gang packed up their various sources of entertainment (laptops, Rock Band, each other) and raced up the stairs, somehow picking up Artie and his wheelchair on the way out.

In the sudden silence, Kurt and Blaine looked at each other.

"Have I told you how much I love your eyes?" Kurt asked softly, reaching out- and Blaine's heart got caught in his throat at the sudden butterflies that consumed his stomach.

"Kurt-"

There was a light thudding down the stairs, and Rachel Berry's face poked around the wall. "Are you two coming? I'm Rachel Berry, by the way. Lead singer of New Directions." she held out a hand.

Blaine suppressed his smile, maintaining a serious expression. "Kurt has told me. It's a pleasure to meet you, Rachel."

"You're a worthy opponent," Rachel informed him. "You have a lot of talent and you clearly make Kurt happy. So I approve of you."

Blaine caught Kurt giving Rachel his "bitch-I-will-cut-you" face, an expression he knew all too well after introducing him to Wes and David.

"Well, Kurt makes me happy, too," Blaine said, smiling at Kurt, and the other boy's expression softened.

Rachel shot Kurt a look that Blaine didn't quite catch, and hurried up the stairs.

"Do you own anything besides your Dalton Uniform?" Kurt asked, fingering the fabric. "I'm beginning to think of you as a cartoon character, with nothing but the same outfit lined up a thousand times in your closet."

"Come on, lovebirds," came Quinn's voice from the top of the stairs.

Dinner was something Blaine wasn't used to, in the way that it was done. As crazy as the Warblers were, they had never been quite like this. Mercedes, Artie, and Rachel were all singing different songs to themselves around the table, and nobody threw a book at them to get them to shut up (which had happened to Blaine more times than he cared to count or admit to). Brittany and Mike danced as they served the food, and didn't slip or fall. Everybody complained loudly and threw sharp cynicisms at each other, but they also loved each other _so deeply_- that much was obvious. It was obvious in the way that, when Beth (who Blaine figured out was Quinn's daughter) was mentioned, both Mercedes and Kurt reached for Quinn's hands. It was obvious in the stories they told, ones where Finn wore a shower curtain and Kurt threw a slushie in his own face and Puck spent two days in a port-o-potty. It was obvious in how, when Karofsky's name was mentioned, Sam's jaw tightened, Finn's smile faded, and Puck cracked his knuckles ominously.

"He taught the whole football team how to dance," Finn told the table proudly, and Kurt buried his face in his hands.

Blaine found his foot under the table and linked their ankles together. Kurt's hand slipped off his face and under the table, finding Blaine's hand with his own.

Blaine, with much difficulty, ate with his left hand for the rest of the meal.

"Remember when he had that 14-minute French solo at Nationals last year?" Quinn said, fondly, reaching over to ruffle his hair.

He ducked, scowling.

"Nationals? For what?" Blaine asked. It couldn't have been for Glee- he knew that New Directions (unfairly) had not made it past Regionals last year.

"The Cheerios, of course."

When Blaine still continued to look puzzled, Brittany, Santana, Quinn, and Kurt all sighed. "It's the Cheerleading Squad at McKinley, Blaine," Kurt said.

Blaine suddenly felt ridiculously and uncomfortably hot.

Kurt had been a cheerleader?

He tried not to picture it. He really did. But it was so difficult when three of the girls who were sitting around the table were wearing the uniform.

"You were a cheerleader?" Blaine asked Kurt. He could feel his palm growing sweaty under Kurt's and hoped to God Kurt couldn't feel it too.

Kurt shrugged. "Yeah."

"He helped us win Nationals." Brittany said.

"He's amazing." Surprisingly, this came from Santana.

Blaine smiled a little, pushing thoughts away. Inappropriate thoughts that were not good to think in front of all of Kurt's closest friends. "I bet."

"Finn, could you bring out the dessert?" Carole called from the adult's table.

Finn stood up amicably enough, but then said, "Blaine? You want to help me?"

Surprised, Blaine stood up, trying to discreetly disentangle himself from Kurt. As he followed Finn into the kitchen, he caught Quinn and Artie exchanging knowing smirks.

In the kitchen, Finn was pulling oven mitts on. "You know, I bet he still has that uniform, if you asked him."

Blaine choked.

Finn snorted, pulling an apple pie out of the oven and setting it on the cooling rack on the stove. "What, you think I don't see the way you look at him? I may not be as smart as Kurt but I'm not as naive as he is. You really like him, don't you?"

"Very much," Blaine admitted softly.

"I can tell," Finn said. "Look, I won't tell him, because that would ruin things. But please tell me you're going to do something about this."

"I don't know." Blaine sighed. "I don't want to mess this up. I'm the first openly gay guy Kurt has ever met. I don't want him going for me just because I'm gay, or just because he's finally _wanted _by somebody."

Finn's forehead crinkled. "So he's never told you about Harry?"

"Harry?" Blaine repeated.

"The guy he went on a- he really never told you?"

Bewildered, Blaine shook his head.

"He told us about it. All of us, when we kidnapped him. Guys are _interested _in him, Blaine, it isn't just you anymore. And Kurt _knows_ they are. But he still only looks at you like you're- Jesus, or something. He told us it didn't feel right, being with Harry. It's not at all that it's because of what you are, Blaine- it's because of _who_ you are."

"That's probably the smartest thing I've ever heard you say," Sam said.

They both jumped, and turned to see Sam, who was leaning against a counter. "Hi, I'm Sam. I'm part of the rest of the dinner party you two ditched when you went to get dessert eight minutes ago. Finn, people are starting to question your sexuality."

"I'm not gay!" Finn said, a little panicky.

"And I think Kurt might be getting jealous." Sam picked up the a chocolate pie from the counter. "Finn, bring this is. I got it from here."

They waited until Finn was gone, then he took a step closer to Blaine. "Kurt's a good kid," Sam said, quietly. "But I could see as soon as I got to McKinley that he was lonely. He had nobody. And I mean nobody. Nobody to open up to and nobody to love him the way he deserves to be loved. I mean, he's a high school kid. High school is tough enough already, without having to feel so horribly alone all the time. When I showed him kindness, it was like he'd never experienced that from a guy his age. It was so sad, Blaine, and he reminded me so much of you, when you first transferred to Dalton."  
Blaine's heart hurt. He'd known Kurt had been lonely. But to hear it said aloud by someone at McKinley who'd _noticed _something was different.

"So he _needs_ you, Blaine," Sam continued. "Sure, he needed you as a friend, he still does. You're one of his best friends now because he can tell you everything. He needs that the most. But now, Blaine, he needs something else, too. And maybe I'd understand your... reluctance if you didn't feel that way, but everyone at the table saw how you looked at him. You want him, so go for him. He needs that. Not just because he needs a boyfriend, but because he needs _you_. If he just needed a boyfriend, he would have gone for the first guy who had the balls to ask him out, who incidentally was not you. But he didn't."

Sam leaned closer. "Just make a move, dude. Soon. Figure out how to do it in your own cheesy, Warbler, Potter and Katy Perry obsessed way, but do it soon. Because the rest of us are sick of you two holding hands under the table and pretending it doesn't mean anything."

"I-" Blaine stammered, feeling his face flood with red.

"Caught you," Sam said, winking. He was only smirking a little. "Come on, let's get back to the party."

Blaine followed him, feeling as if he'd been hit over the head with a brick- struck dumb.

Kurt had to like him. He had to. Why else would two of his friends (one of them his step-brother, no less) tell him to get a move on?

Back in the dining room, Blaine was surprised to find that most of the people had dispersed. Dessert wasn't as formal an affair as dinner had been, and many had taken their plates into the living room to watch whatever game was currently on TV.

Sam handed him a plate with a large piece of chocolate pie on it. "Your favorite. Remember when your mom would send you one of these every week?"

Blaine laughed. "She still does. Lucky I'm on the swim team or I'd be obese."

Sam cleared his throat slightly, then nodded his head toward the window.

Kurt was sitting cross-legged on a chair, looking out at the snow falling outside. An untouched slice of cake sat on a plate, balanced on his knees.

He didn't turn as Blaine sat down in a chair across from him. "It's getting really nasty outside."

"It is," Blaine agreed.

"Most of New Directions is staying over my house, minus Mike and Rachel," Kurt said, still watching the snow drift past. "The roads are too icy for most of them to go home. They'll leave early Christmas morning to get home. You should stay, too. It's a two-hour drive back to Eaton. And I don't want you driving in that."

"I'd love to, of course, but I don't want to impose on your time with your friends," Blaine said politely.

"They want to get to know you," Kurt said, finally breaking his zombie-esque stare-off with the snow. "Sam likes you, Finn likes you-"

"Finn likes me?"

"Yes." Kurt shrugged. "It was weird. After you guys disappeared to get dessert, and Sam went to find you, Finn came back and sat down and patted my knee with this weird smile on his face. Then he said 'I like him'." Kurt smiled slightly. "Santana and Puck were waging on whether you two were having a gay love fest in there."

"We just talked," Blaine said. "About football, World of Warcraft... you..."

"What about me?" Kurt asked. The tips of his ears were a very adorable shade of pink.

"Where's everyone else?" Blaine asked, standing up.

"My room. I think they're trying to get a band together."

"I have to get down there to claim my spot!" Blaine cried, his eyes widening. He pulled Kurt up with him. "Hurry!"

He tried to ignore the pointed stares each member of New Directions was giving him as he pulled Kurt into the basement room by his hand.

"Microphone," Blaine declared.

Tina handed it to him. "Go for it."

He chose "Somebody to Love" by Queen and sang the entire song staring directly at Kurt, wondering how much more obvious he could be.

Judging by the smirks on all of New Direction's faces and the way Kurt turned completely red, not much.

When Blaine opened his eyes, it was still dark.

The basement was a ridiculous modge-podge of people, just piled together all over each other. Blaine could feel somebody's head on his stomach, someone's legs tangled up with his, and somebody else pressed up against his side. He was almost certain that the last one was Kurt- their hands were twined together- but he couldn't for the life of him tell who the other two were.

_Nothing breaks the ice with people quite like sleeping with them,_ Blaine thought, then tried really hard not to laugh. A little chuckle escaped his mouth without his permission, and a voice floated over to him.

"Hello?"

"Brittany?"

"Are you my conscience?"

Blaine laughed. Out of all the girls in New Directions, Brittany had to be his favorite. With her easy acceptance of both him and Kurt and her strange way of thinking, she was like a breath of fresh air.

"No, it's Blaine."

"Hi, Blaine! I tried to turn on the light, but everything stayed dark. Do you think we might be in a horror movie?"

"I think it's more likely that the power's out," Blaine whispered back. "The storm last night was pretty severe."

"Do you love Kurt?"

The question was so random and unexpected that it took Blaine's breath away.

"Of course I do. Don't you?"

Brittany actually sounded impatient. "Not like that. I mean, do you love him like I love Artie? Or Rachel loves Finn or Sam loves Quinn?"

"You mean romantically?"

"Yes."

He could have given her a simple answer, and he knew Brittany would have been satisfied with that. But he found himself saying so much more. It was something about the darkness that made it feel so secure to spill secrets.

"I have tried so hard not to fall for him," said Blaine, "because I want him to take things on his own time. To be comfortable in his skin and the fact that he's now in a place where he won't be ridiculed anymore for who or what he is. And I think he's getting there. He frequently gives fashion advice to the quarterback, and he's teaching the kicker how to dance. But as of right now, he's only _getting_ there. He needs to be all the way there before I try to pursue anything romantic with him, no matter how much I may want to. Right now, I'm being his mentor. I'm teaching him a lot of things, but he's teaching _me_ things, too. That I can be a part of Dalton and fit in and also be myself. For so long I tried so hard to be just another Dalton boy that I forgot what it meant to be an individual. When I'm around him, I remember. He's so unashamedly _him_, so confidently _unique_, that I'm beginning to remember how to be that too. So to answer your question, Brittany- yes. I do love him. I tried so hard not to, but I do. I just can't do anything about it until I'm sure he's ready."

Brittany was silent for a moment. "That was nice," she said, finally. "I didn't understand all of it, but it was nice. He likes you. He thinks you're dapper, which sounds like a name a duck would have."

Blaine laughed, a little too loudly. He quieted immediately. "Dapper. Oh, wow. Uh, not something I've ever heard from someone who wasn't Wes or David."

"I'm glad you love him," Brittany said. "He needs some love. I tried to love him like that, but he didn't love me back because I'm not a boy."

"That does tend to put a damper on things," Blaine said reasonably.

The lights flicked on, and as Blaine's eyes adjusted, he realized every single person in the room-minus one- was awake. And had been awake for his entire speech. Tina, the one who was tangled up in his legs, was grinning up at him. Quinn, whose head was pillowed on his stomach, had a smirk that covered her whole face.

Blaine felt like sinking into the floor and never coming out again, save for one thing- Kurt was still asleep, tucked sweetly up against Blaine's shoulder.

"How are all of you awake, and _he's _asleep?" Blaine demanded, trying to sound angry in as quiet a way as was possible.

"When you started your speech, Brittany poked Santana, who woke up Finn, who hit Artie, who woke up Puck, who woke Mercedes, who shook Tina, who woke up Quinn, who woke up me," said Sam. "So I only really caught the ending. It was enough to make me hear your declaration of love for Kurt, though."

At the sound of his name, the boy shifted, blinking his eyes open.

"Why's it so bright?" he asked groggily, before his eyes rested on Blaine's face. "Oh, hello. Good morning."

"Good morning to you too, bedhead," Blaine teased, ignoring the various gagging noises from around the room.

"Don't look at my hair," Kurt panicked.

"Too late. I've seen it. It's adorable."

"Get a room," Santana called.

"We have one," Blaine called back. "But you're in it, sweetheart."

"Okay, Blaine, _stop_."

Blaine laughed, detaching himself from Quinn and Tina. "I think we all need to get ready to go home."

"Presents!" Finn cried, jumping up with a childlike gleam in his eye.

Blaine felt a rush of fondness for the boy, for whom Kurt obviously cared for so much. And the feeling was mutual, he realized, as Finn mussed his "little brother"'s hair and threw Kurt's high-tech hair towel at him. "Get showered so we can go open them!"

"I feel disgusting," Quinn said. "Look at my hair."

"You always look beautiful to me," Sam said, and Blaine noticed the way Quinn blushed and smiled- so similar to the way Kurt would whenever Blaine paid him a compliment.

So it was true, then. Kurt liked him. As more than a friend. He let the realization wash over him, and then let the second realization that it didn't _matter_ how much he liked Kurt or Kurt liked him, he had to _wait _until he was sure Kurt was ready.

One by one, New Directions packed up to go home. Finn was yawning as he said goodbye to Mercedes, who was the last one to go.

"Don't leave yet, Blaine," Finn said as Blaine stood up. "Kurt would want to say goodbye even if he didn't have a present to give you."

"I wasn't leaving," Blaine grinned. "I was actually heading out to my car to get Kurt's present."

A grin broke Finn's face. "Kurt'll be happy."

They headed up the stairs together, Finn making a break for the living room and Blaine heading out to his car. He retrieved the package and headed back to the living room to wait for Kurt.

Finn was tearing through his stocking and Blaine was on the couch, somewhat watching him, when Kurt appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Good morning, Kurt," Blaine said, waving a little with the hand that wasn't holding his gift.

Kurt was holding a present in his hands, too, and appeared a little awkward. "Merry Christmas," he said, moving to sit beside Blaine. He placed his gift gently on the other boy's lap. Blaine repeated the gesture with his own present.

"You first," Kurt said, a little nervously.

Blaine undid the perfectly tied bow, and slowly unwrapped the wrapping paper. He was one of those anal-retentive types who couldn't just tear the damn wrapping paper off. He had to fold it. Very gently.

He could tell Kurt was getting impatient, so he finished unwrapping and lifted the lid to the box.

A cashmere sweater, dark green, v-neck.

"Oh my god," he breathed, lifting the sweater from the box. "Kurt, this must have cost you-"

Kurt waved an impatient hand. "Black Friday sale. But that's not important. Do you like it?"

"It's lovely," Blaine said, and it really was. He slipped it on over the t-shirt he'd borrowed from Kurt, then held his arms out. It was unbelievably soft. "So what do you think?"

"I was right about it going with your eyes," Kurt said, smugly.

Blaine raised an eyebrow, but decided not to comment on Kurt knowing the exact coloring of his eyes (especially since he had long ago memorized the color of Kurt's- glasz, a sort of blue-gray-green color).

"Open yours," he said instead, softly, tapping the present in Kurt's lap.

Kurt, surprisingly, was the tear-off-the-wrapping-paper kind of person. He ripped off the silvery wrappings, opening the small velvet box.

His jaw dropped.

Blaine swallowed. He knew this was a big step for both of them to take- from friends to maybe sort of something more.

"This is-" he seemed speechless. "It's lovely, Blaine."

"It" was a necklace- more of a pendant, really. A small bird flying on a round silver oval, twined with vines. Blaine had purposely checked the box at least four times for a price tag, knowing that Kurt would feel guilty if he ever found out just how much the gift had cost. It wouldn't matter that Blaine could more than afford it.

"Pavarotti?" Kurt guessed, running his fingers over the bird's wings.

Blaine shook his head. "No, you. He can fly, unlike Pavarotti. I had them carve your name into the feathers. Subtly, of course."

Kurt traced the letters with his fingers, looking a little shell-shocked. He turned it over.

On the back, engraved in simple, bold letters, was one word: "courage".

Kurt lifted it and clasped it around his neck, stroking at the thin chain with one hand. "It's perfect. It's _amazing_, Blaine."

Blaine smiled slightly. The words were on the tip of his tongue- _It's a locket, I have the key._ He could feel the cold weight of the silvery metal key on its own chain hidden under his shirt. But he refrained. This wasn't how he was going to tell Kurt. He was going to make it special. He had to.

Blaine sighed. "I'd really like to spend more time with you, but you need family time for your first Christmas together, and Wes and David are expecting me home. So I'd better go."

Kurt bade him a resigned goodbye, walking him to the door. As he got into his car, he could've sworn he heard a wistful countertenor voice drifting softly out of the house he'd just left.

_But baby, it's cold outside..._

**A/N: holycrap long chapter. for me, anyway. 11 pages in Word (13 including the author's note). **

**I finally know where this story is going to end!  
**

**I struggled for a long time over what Blaine and Kurt should give each other as Christmas presents. I finally settled on those presents because clothing and jewelry are generally presents you only give people when you are dating them. I think at this point, Kurt and Blaine are both hinting heavily at something to each other. **

**Also, you didn't hear about Harry during my one-shot, and I'm sorry about it. It was brought up during dinner between them. The basic story is that Harry asked Kurt out to dinner, and they both decided at the end of the dinner that they'd both gone on the date for all the wrong reasons. I may post a one-shot for it later on. **

**Wow.**

**You guys. You. Are. Awesome. Your reviews make me insanely happy, they really do, and they inspire me to write more. **

**Who has seen Darren Criss singing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas"? If you haven't, go watch it. He's wearing a frikkin' DALTON SWEATSHIRT. **

**Quote of FOREVER (never mind the day): "Kurt might be feeling a little, you know, jittery butterflies for Blaine." -Chris Colfer**

**Does anyone else believe that maybe Blaine doesn't own any clothes besides his Dalton uniform? The more we see of him, the more I believe it. It's just bizarre, in my opinion. **

**Okay. Review!**


	11. Confessions

**A/N: Wow, you guys are awesome. I was so worried about that chapter and you guys are just fantastic!**

**Someone pointed out the rating to me- Jesus, I can't believe I rated it K+. No worries, I changed it to T :D**

**aspiringtoeloquence: well hi there, long-lost twin! this explains a lot. **

**Weird Shmeird: I'm pretty sure Spah is just another weird Wes/David way to say Spy. At least, I think that's what it is. **

**Quasimojo8: Ah, mate, the internets won't let me see whatever that link was. Says it doesn't exist :( **

**so how was everyone's Christmas? (unless you don't celebrate, but I'm not a hugely politically correct person, so I'm sorry if I offend you by asking but chill out, seriously). Mine was amazing, got the first season of Glee on DVD, a joint present from all my friends banded together. Amazing. **

**I don't own this either, but people really are making the most awesome speeches.**

**Here is why I ship Kurt/Blaine:** **I like that Blaine is Kurt's intellectual equal. Kurt needs someone who can not only keep up with him, but someone he can't steamroll over, either. I like that Blaine had Kurt's back, but Kurt intervened between him and Karofsky when necessary. He doesn't need a White Knight to protect him from everything and to fight his battles for him. He needs a partner.** **I don't want to see Kurt as his love interest's mentor guiding him through the coming out process. I don't want him to deal with the burden of someone else's sexual identity crisis, at least not as a springboard into a romantic relationship. Not at this point, after what he's been through this season. I think there is more than enough conflict inherent in being one half of an out gay teenage couple without needing to add that to the mix.**

**I like that, assuming Blaine has feelings for Kurt, he is holding them back in order to be what Kurt needs most right now— a friend. That he understands how important that is for Kurt. I like that Kurt's approach to Blaine is different than it was with either Finn or Sam; he isn't pushing, he isn't trying to force anything, even though this is the first time he knows things could actually work out in his favor. And maybe that's what makes things different— for the first time he has something to lose.**

**I like the way their voices blend. I like how Kurt swats Blaine playfully on the shoulder over dinner like it's nothing, when we all know what being able to touch a boy even in such a small way means to him, and what it means that Blaine doesn't bat an eyelash. I like how Blaine is the only one to laugh at Kurt's questionable dead bird joke. **

**I like the way Blaine's eyes fall to Kurt's mouth when he sings to him. I like the way Kurt's gaze follows Blaine as he walks out of the room and the way his lips press together.** **I like that Blaine not only indulges but shares some of Kurt's interests and passions— whether it's performing or Vogue covers or Patti LuPone or gay rights.**

**I like that Blaine is someone Kurt lets his guard down around in a way we haven't seen him with anyone except for his father. I like that Blaine is honest about what he thinks, even when it hurts, and even when he's wrong. I like that Kurt engages Blaine as an equal because he knows Blaine is not someone he can easily derail or manipulate, and because Blaine is someone he respects. I like that Blaine may have the best intentions in the world but he doesn't have all the answers he thinks he does, and that Kurt has more strength than he knows, and eventually they will realize this about each other and themselves.** **I like that whatever happens between them, these are two people who have something to learn from each other.**

**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me! David, Wes, Blaine, and Kurt (and Wyatt, the fist-pumping guy) belong to Glee, and Harry and Pratik belong to Infraredphaeton, and her wonderful Spah-verse!**

Blaine sighed in frustration and reached up to thread his fingers through his hair, a habit he thought he'd kicked in ninth grade. He stopped himself halfway, remembering the absurdly large amount of both time and product that went into his hair. "I don't understand algorithms," he moaned regretfully to Wes and David.

"I do," David said, smugly. He and Wes were tangled up on the couch beside him, studying out of the same book. They rather appeared as if someone had tied their limbs together.

"I swear, if I hadn't met your girlfriends before-" Blaine began.

"We're heteroflexible!" Wes snapped back, not even looking up from the book.

Blaine choked a little. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I'm straight, but shit happens," David defined in a rather bored tone.

Wes popped a marshmallow into his mouth.

Blaine blinked.

"We've rendered him speechless," Wes said, grinning.

"He could start singing," David reminded him. "About the situation. That's what we usually do when we're speechless. Blaine, do you feel like singing?"

Blaine blinked again.

"Speechless," Wes repeated, proudly. "Would you look at that."

"How did you get him to shut up?" Harry asked, leaning over the back of the couch and examining Blaine's face.

It was then that Blaine remembered he had a bone to pick with Harry. About Kurt.

"Harry," he said, politely. "Could I have a word?"

David and Wes began to "ooooh". Blaine and Harry ignored them.

"Sure," Harry said, and followed him out into the hallway. It was completely deserted save for one cleaning servicer dusting off an antique vase on the other end of the corridor.

Blaine turned to face Harry once they stopped, and found that he had no idea what he could possibly say to him. He opened his mouth, then closed it and swallowed, hard.

"This is about Kurt, isn't it?" Harry said, gently.

Blaine nodded gratefully.

Harry sat down on one of the leather couches lining the hall and patted the seat beside him. Blaine sat down, hesitantly.

"So, who told you about our date?" Harry asked.

"Uh, Finn," Blaine said.

"Who?" Harry asked, confused.

Blaine chuckled. "Apparently, Kurt told his stepbrother. About it."

Harry folded his hands. "So what do you want to know?"

Blaine was slightly taken aback, but quickly recovered. "I don't want you to feel like I own him, Harry." He said, quietly. "I don't own Kurt. It doesn't matter how I feel about him if he doesn't feel the same way. I only want him to be happy."

Harry sighed. "I can't really tell you everything, Blaine. I wish I could. But part of is Kurt's business- it isn't my business to tell." He took a deep breath. "But I can tell you this- it was a mistake for both of us."

Blaine's eyebrows shot up. "Both of you?"

Harry winced. "Er. You know how Pratik is my best friend, right?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. Of course he knew. The two were rarely seen without each other, somewhat like Wes and David- or Kurt and Blaine.

"I may or may not have... feelings for him."

Blaine's mouth opened. "Oh," he managed. Would there be no end to the surprises?

"But Pratik is straight," Harry continued. "Really straight. And maybe I've been trying to get rid of my unrequited feelings for him by dating other people. And before you ask," he said defensively, "Kurt asked me out. But the date ended right after dinner. We decided it just wasn't right, what with me only doing this to get over Pratik."

"I'm really sorry," Blaine said, sincerely. "Here I was planning on beating you up."

Harry snorted. "Sure."

They both laughed a little, then Harry said, "but really, Blaine, you should just tell him how you feel."

Blaine sighed, wistfully. "I really wish I could. But honestly, it isn't that I'm waiting for. I want Kurt to be ready for a relationship before I pursue one with him."

Harry laughed. "Are you kidding me? The kid's more than ready for one. He's _aching_ for one."

Blaine frowned. "Somehow, that seems wrong. Like he'd only be with me just to have a relationship."

"He went on a date with me, Blaine, and decided that he didn't want me," Harry reminded him. "He doesn't just want a relationship. Maybe he's waiting for you."

Blaine stood up. "Thank you for being honest with me, Harry."

"Any time," Harry said, easily.

"And I wouldn't be too sure about Pratik," Blaine added, as he began to walk away. "He stares at you far too often and too long for a straight best friend."

It was true, and it was the least Blaine could offer him after what Harry had just given him.

"So how'd you find out about the date?" David asked, as Blaine sat down beside them on the couch again.

"I'm sorry, what?" Blaine asked, genuinely under the impression that he'd heard him wrong.

"The date with Harry," Wes expanded, popping another marshmallow in his mouth. "Wasn't that what this whole thing was about?"

"Did everyone know except for me?" Blaine cried, in frustration.

Wes shrugged. "If it makes you feel better, from what I hear, Kurt said, 'It's not you, it's Blaine', when he explained to Harry why they wouldn't work out."

Something small and explosive went off in Blaine's chest. He felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. "He did?"

"He did," David confirmed. "What, you couldn't already tell he's head-over-heels for you? I could tell from the moment you started singing Teenage Dream. And that was months ago."

"Oh yeah," said Wes, dreamily. "And remember Sectionals? The look on his face when Blaine sang 'so I went and let you blow my mind'?"

"It was like there were sunbeams shooting out of his face."

"Or rainbows," Wes agreed.

"I need to ask him out," Blaine said, blankly.

With sudden actions that startled the rest of the room into dropping their various cups of coffee, Wes and David fell from the couch to their knees, throwing their arms up into the air.

"ALLELUJAH, PRAISE THE LORD!" Wes called to the skies.

"OH ALMIGHTY FATHER, HOW WE HAVE PRAYED-"

"OKAY, you guys!" Blaine said, raising his voice slightly, which for Blaine was somewhat like yelling.

They turned to look at him. The rest of the room was completely silent.

"I need to think," Blaine told them. "I can't just do this. I need to be alone for a while. I'm going to the roof. Don't bother me, and don't tell Kurt where I am."

xxxxx

Blaine lay on his back on the roof of Kieran house, gazing up at the crystal-clear night sky and trying to ignore the fact that it was so cold he might be losing vital organs.

_It's not that bad,_ he tried to reason with himself. _Think warm thoughts._

And of course, that brought him back to Kurt. There was a reason he was there. He always went to the roof when he had to think, and David and Wes and all the other boys knew that. And thankfully, they were the kind of friends who didn't bother him when he went.

His toes were_ freezing,_ though.

He really, really wished he'd thought to bring his guitar with him when he'd gone up to the roof. He could go back, but it was (he checked his pocket watch) 8:49. Kurt was no doubt back in their room.

And Kurt was the last person he wanted to see right now.

Not because he didn't always want to see Kurt. God, no. He just didn't think he could handle seeing him at the moment without, as David would put it, "jumping his bones".

He took a deep breath in, scrolling through his mental repertoire of songs to find one that could possibly fit his current situation and make him feel better.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and began to sing.

_Yeah..._

_ I hear you breathing in, another day begins_

_ The stars are falling out_

_ My dreams are fading now, fading out_

He tried to list in his head the reasons why he couldn't be with Kurt, why he couldn't get into this relationship, but all of his reasons seemed to have fled when he'd spoken to Harry.

_I've been keeping my eyes wide open, I've been keeping my eyes wide open_

_ Ooh, your love is a symphony, all around me, running through me_

_ Ooh, your love is a melody, underneath me, running to me_

_ Oh, your love is a song..._

All he could think of was reason upon reason of why he should just give in to what he was feeling and do what he knew both of them wanted him to do.

_The dawn is fire bright, against the city lights_

_ The clouds are glowing now, the moon is blacking out, blacking out..._

_ Ooh, your love is a symphony, all around me, running through me_

_ Ooh, your love is a melody, underneath me, running to me_

_ Oh, your love is a song, your love is a song... _

He let his voice trail off, unable to trust it any more not to give out on him.

He let himself recover for a long time, trying to think of anything but Kurt, gazing up at the night sky, breathing in the crisp air, and wondering what the _hell _he was going to do.

A cough let him know that he was not alone.

He sat up immediately, turning as quickly as he could while still sitting down.

Kurt offered a sheepish smile. He was holding Blaine's guitar, and Blaine's heart leapt painfully at the sight of him. He groaned internally. He was so _screwed_, so _head-over-heels _in love with Kurt that he couldn't even think straight (1).

"Hi." Blaine's voice was embarrassingly shaky. "You found me."

"I coaxed it out of David and Wes," Kurt admitted, stepping forward, and Blaine took a moment to admire the way the starlight shone off Kurt's porcelain skin and glinted in his eyes.

Kurt's hands were shaking, and Blaine knew it wasn't entirely from the cold. "Kurt, I-"

"Don't," said Kurt. "Whatever you've got to say, let it wait. I've got something to show you." He looped the strap of Blaine's guitar over his shoulder.

"You don't know how to play guitar," Blaine said, slowly.

"Pratik's been teaching me to play."

"You're kidding." Blaine was surprised. He'd never thought Kurt and Pratik were that close.

"I called in a favor with Harry," Kurt said.

This wasn't as surprising. Harry and Pratik were the kind of joined-at-the-hip friends that David and Wes were, and therefore were almost the same person. So it was legitimate that Kurt could call in a favor that Harry owed him with Pratik.

"I wanted to surprise the Warblers. But I thought I should play something for you first. Is that okay?"

Blaine could only blink for a little bit.

Kurt laughed a little self-consciously, something that was somehow not right on him. He began to strum the guitar, a simple little series of chords, and Blaine thought he might've known the song from somewhere, but he couldn't quite figure out where.

Then Kurt began to sing, and Blaine couldn't remember his _name_, let alone a tune from a movie he may have seen (1).

_All those days, watching from the windows. _

_ All those years, outside, looking in._

_ All that time, never even knowing, just how blind I've been..._

And suddenly, Blaine knew exactly where he'd heard it before, and he couldn't believe how well this song fit for his situation, and he wondered how on earth Kurt had known.

_Now I'm here, blinking in the starlight._

_ Now I'm here, suddenly I see. _

_ Standing here, it's oh-so-clear, I'm where I'm meant to be..._

_ And at last I see the light, and it's like the fog has lifted_

_ And at last I see the light, and it's like the sky is new_

_ And it's warm and real and bright, and the world has somehow shifted..._

_ All at once, everything looks different, now that I see you. _

He continued to strum as Blaine's heart raced, still unable to _believe _that Kurt was singing this song to _him_. Kurt opened his mouth, bridging into the next part, but Blaine knew this song was a duet and he was going to be _damned _if he'd allow Kurt to sing another duet alone after hearing about Le Jazz Hot. So he opened his mouth and let the words come out before Kurt could utter a single note.

_All these days, chasing down a daydream_

_ All those years, living in a blur._

_ All that time, never truly seeing things the way they were._

_ Now he's here, shining in the starlight._

_ Now he's here, suddenly, I know._

_ If he's here, it's crystal-clear, I'm where I'm meant to go..._

Kurt joined him for the chorus as Blaine stood to join him, moving until they were mere inches apart, the guitar the only thing separating them.

As the last note faded out, they looked at each other. The Kurt coughed and looked away slightly, and Blaine was hit forcibly with a wave of de ja vu, reminiscent of the few awkward moments after _Baby, it's Cold Outside_.

"You said you had something to tell me?" Kurt said quietly, not meeting Blaine's eyes.

Blaine took a deep breath.

"Kurt," he said, softly. "I _really_ like you. A lot. And I don't mean as a friend. But I wasn't going to do anything about it until you were ready for me to."

Kurt was smiling more broadly than Blaine had ever seen him smile, showing off the teeth he never liked to show. "And they said you were smart, Blaine," he said. "I've only been waiting... forever."

"So I'm going to ask you out now."

Kurt let out a breath Blaine hadn't known he was holding. "Good," he said, "because I don't think I could've done it."

"Would you like to go to dinner with me this Friday?" Blaine asked.

Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"On a date," Blaine clarified. "Where I open the car door for you, and we hold hands across the table, and I refuse to let you pay for dinner."

"Yes," Kurt breathed.

"I really, _really_ want to kiss you right now," Blaine added, "but I'm not going to."

"Why?" Kurt asked, a flash of hurt crossing his eyes.

Blaine caught up Kurt's hands with his. "Because _you're_ going to kiss _me_ for the first time. When you're ready."

"Oh." Kurt let out another breath. "I don't think I can right now," he admitted. "I'm too nervous."

"You don't have to," Blaine whispered, lifting the guitar from around his shoulders, and placing it gently on the ground. He wrapped his arms around the other boy, and rested his forehead on Kurt's shoulder.

"This is enough for now," he murmured, and felt Kurt's hands curl around the small of his back and a head drop onto his shoulder.

"Blaine?" he felt Kurt whisper.

"Yes?" he asked, rubbing circles into Kurt's back.

"I really like you, too."

Blaine couldn't say anything without it coming out completely sappy and embarrassing. Instead, he wrapped his arms more tightly around Kurt and hummed happily. He could feel Kurt's heartbeat beneath his palms.

"Blaine?"

"Mmm?"

"I don't think I can kiss you."

Startled (and a little hurt), Blaine began to pull back. Kurt grabbed him by his forearms and held him in place. "I _want_ to," he breathed, in a voice that made Blaine's knees go wobbily. "I want to _so badly_, Blaine. I just don't know how to- what to-" his voice was growing higher and more panicky.

Blaine pulled Kurt tightly against him again and slowly eased them both to the floor, settling Kurt so he was in between Blaine's legs, with his back pressed to Blaine's chest.

"I can't do this for you," he murmured, stroking one hand over Kurt's incredibly soft hair. "But I can make it a little easier. Kurt, if you kiss me, I _swear_ to God, to Buddha, to Satan- to _whoever_- I _will _kiss you back. But we both need you to do this."

Kurt took a deep breath. "Okay," he said, calmly. "But-uh-you might have to wait for a while."

"However long it takes," Blaine said, twirling a strand of Kurt's hair between his fingers with one hand, and lacing his fingers through Kurt's with the other. "Can you think of somewhere you'd like to go for dinner on Friday?"

"Not when you're doing that," Kurt said in a slightly strangled voice, and Blaine realized that the fingers twirling in Kurt's hair had gotten slightly more teasing.

"Sorry," he said, quickly snatching his hand away.

Kurt twisted to look at him. "I didn't say to stop," he said, smiling shyly, and Blaine resumed his motions, his heart feeling as if it was literally in his throat. He nearly jumped when he felt Kurt's fingers tracing similar patterns in his thigh.

It was so bizarre to finally see for-real proof that Blaine affected Kurt in exactly the same way that Kurt affected Blaine. It was incredible, actually. To see Kurt shiver (and not from the cold) when Blaine's wandering fingers ran down his neck. To see the way he cuddled into Blaine and to know it was because Kurt _really liked_ Blaine.

He was absolutely sure he could never be happier than he was at the moment.

After a few minutes, Kurt spoke again. "Can we go to Breadstix?" He asked. "I just feel like, you know, for us... it's kind of perfect."

It was a long drive from Westerville to Lima. Nearly two hours. But classes always ended earlier on Fridays. They could handle it.

"I'd love that," Blaine said, squeezing Kurt's hand and pressing his cheek against Kurt's. He could feel the other boy's body shuddering, and realized once again just how _cold _it was outside. "Come on, let's go inside."

He stood up, offering his hand to Kurt to help him up, and grabbed the guitar by the neck. He refused to let go of Kurt's hand.

"You agreed to go out with me," he said, grinning. "Therefore, you must deal with the consequences. Namely, acknowledging publicly, through hand-holding, that I'm not hopeless and actually do have a chance with you. Wes and David don't believe it."

Kurt shot him a look that clearly said "are-you-crazy?" He mumbled, "How could you not have a chance with me?"

Blaine smiled widely, swinging Kurt's hand a little as they entered the main hall.

Somehow, he'd expected more of a... reception.

"There's a betting pool on how long it will take for us to get together," Blaine said to Kurt, disappointed, as the two walked hand in hand through the Senior Commons- and not one boy batted an eyelash. "You'd think_ someone _would react."

"Blaine, we hold hands on a regular basis, it's not that unusual," Kurt pointed out. "Plus, it's not really a non-friend thing to do. _Wes _and _David _hold hands."

"Well," Blaine said, softly, and tugged Kurt a little closer to him before lifting his hand to his mouth. "You don't mind, do you?" he hesitated, his mouth centimeters from the back of Kurt's hand.

Kurt only shook his head, his eyes as round as saucers, apparently rendered speechless.

Blaine very gently pressed his lips to Kurt's knuckles, maintaining eye contact with him the whole time. He noted with a sense of satisfaction and pride that the younger boy looked as if he might swoon.

Now _that _caught their attention.

"Get it, Blaine!" Wyatt called, fist-pumping the air.

Kurt, who was blushing fiercely, took a step backward. "I'm going up to our room," he said, quietly, "while you talk to Wes and David. I think they've got a few things to say to you."

Sure enough, when Blaine looked over, the two boys were staring at him, with inscrutible expressions on their faces.

"Time to face the firing squad," Blaine sighed, and lifted a hand to Kurt's face, letting his fingers trail over his cheek, before turning and quickly heading to his friends (but not before catching the slightly dazed expression on Kurt's face).

Wes' arms were folded across his chest, which made Blaine slightly nervous.

"I am so confused," David said, calmly.

"Blaine, what the _hell_ was that?" Wes demanded. "You just kissed his hand! Does that count? Do friends do that? I'm so confused. What are you two?"

"I have no idea," Blaine confessed.

Both Wes and David looked at him like they wanted to hit him in the face with a brick.

"I asked him on a date," he added, hastily. "And I clarified that it was a hand-holding sort of date."

"Yes, yes, all good, but did you kiss him?" David asked impatiently.

"No," Blaine said, firmly, and both boys groaned with exasperation. Blaine held up one hand. "I have my reasons! I _told _Kurt I wanted to kiss him. Badly. But I also told him that _he _has to be the one to do it, because his first kiss-" he broke off suddenly, realizing that Kurt may not have told David and Wes all of what had happened with Karofsky.

"Yes?" Wes asked, eagerly.

"Nothing," Blaine mumbled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. "That part isn't important. What's important is that Kurt makes the move. I could easily take over this relationship, but that would make Kurt look back in retrospect and say he was fine with whatever happened, even if he wasn't, which I definitely _don't_ want. This way I know for sure he will be okay with whatever happens, because he'll be controlling it. More than fine. He will _want_ whatever happens."

He took a deep breath. David and Wes appeared to be thinking.

"That sounds... good," Wes said, finally. "Wow. You really care about him, don't you?"

David, who had been examining Blaine silently, spoke. "No, not just that. He's head-over-heels in love with him. I've suspected it since Kurt turned away from that window in 'Don't Cry for Me, Argentina', but I would like confirmation, please."

"I love him," Blaine said, and admitting something so significant to his best friends made him feel as if something enormously heavy had just been lifted from his shoulders.

Broad grins broke out across Wes and David's faces, and they attacked him in a hug.

Laughing, Blaine pushed them away. "I've got to get some sleep, and do _not_ say anything," Blaine added, as David opened his mouth to make some lewd comment.

"I wasn't going to. What makes you think I was?" David asked, innocently.

Blaine raised his eyebrows without saying a word, then turned and walked out of the room, his head held high, ignoring all the amused looks he was getting.

When he reached their dorm room, it was dark. Kurt was just a lump underneath the covers on the far side of the room, illuminated lightly by the flickering candle on his bedside table. Kurt had always been the "light a candle in the window" kind of person, something he explained started with his mother.

Blaine undressed as quietly as he could, trying not to wake Kurt, and crawled underneath his own covers, rolling onto his side so he could look at Kurt.

"I'm not asleep, you know."

His voice startled Blaine violently.

The lump in the bed next to Blaine's rolled over, and Kurt's face peeked out from amongst the covers, hair ruffled and looking almost unbearably cute.

"I can't sleep," Kurt admitted, and Blaine couldn't be quite sure in the dim light, but it looked like Kurt may have been blushing.

"I can't either," Blaine admitted back. "You look really cute right now."

Now Kurt was _definitely_ blushing, and Blaine was enjoying every second of it. He had this floaty feeling he associated with everything being right in the world, because he could finally _say _all the things he thought in his head out loud.

"You always look cute," Kurt said in a rush, and threw his covers over his head again.

Blaine lay awake for a long time after that, grinning at the ceiling.

**A/N: (1) My best friend: "Not that he ever thinks straight. ... get it? Because he's gay?" **

**(2): The song is from the Disney movie "Tangled", and it's called "I See The Light". I was scrolling through my ipod, looking for the perfect song for Kurt to sing to Blaine, and I stumbled across this one. It's perfect. Firstly, the lyrics are just wonderful for the situation and setting I have them in. Secondly, the vocals and vocal range are just right for Chris Colfer and Darren Criss' voices. Thirdly, it's a duet. I wasn't even expecting there to be a perfect duet for them, but there it is!**

**Don't be sad, the kiss will happen!**

**(As well as the locket thing)**


	12. Seduction and Confusion

**A/N: My best friend and I just spent 3 hours on Skype analyzing this season of Glee.**

**We've decided:**

**1. Brittany and Artie are sweet, but weird. **

**2. Blaine needs Kurt more than Kurt needs Blaine.**

**3. Quinn's lost her soul during this season.**

**4. Sam's wicked sweet, but he and Kurt were never meant to be together.**

**5. Klaine will be the best relationship Glee has EVER seen, if Glee plays it out right and the writers don't mess it up.**

** Hey there, you're all jealous cuz GUESS WHAT I GOT IN THE MAIL TODAY? Darren Criss' pink sunglasses.**

** Yeah, that's right. WEEP with jealousy. Do it. **

** Also, I looked up the distance between Lima and Westerville (where Dalton is). It really is almost 2 hours. Blaine drove 2 HOURS to see Kurt to help him with his bully.**

** Nobody just "does" that. Come on.**

**I don't like Karofsky. I don't know if I've mentioned this, but I really don't. I understand he's conflicted and all that, but if he and Kurt end up together (which I sincerely doubt they will), I will stop watching the show. It sends a terrible message for a victim to end up with his bully, no matter how misguided the bullying was. Kurt transferred schools because he was afraid for his life around this boy. There is NO WAY he could ever end up with him. Besides the obvious, that Karofsky is so far in the closet he's in Narnia. Kurt needs somebody who is just as out and proud as he is. Namely, Blaine. **

**In other words, I can empathize with Karofsky. It must be so difficult for him. But I simply cannot condone a relationship between him and Kurt. It seems absolutely wrong to me. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. **

Blaine woke up with a feeling of complete and utter happiness.

He actually had to think for a few moments to remember why he was so happy, but as soon as he did he positively leapt out of bed.

_He was dating Kurt._

Like, they were going to go on a date. A _real_ date, not like Rent, where they'd hold hands and pretend that it was okay to get sweaty palms around a "just-friend". A real date, where they could feed each other bits off their plate and play footsie under the table and gaze into each other's eyes like a sappy romance movie.

He felt obnoxiously jittery.

Kurt's bed was neatly made, which meant he was already up and in the shower- a train of thought that maybe he shouldn't be following. It didn't help that the bathroom was directly next door to their room, and he could clearly hear the sound of multiple different showers running.

_Kurt is in one of them_, he thought, then cried desperately, "MUSIC!" _Anything _to get the sounds and images out of his head. He lunged for Kurt's ipod, which was nearest, and turned it on as loudly as it could go, plugging the earbuds firmly into his ears.

_Let you put your hands on me, in my skintight jeans..._

A grin broke out across Blaine's face. Only the previous week had Kurt announced that he wasn't a huge Katy Perry fan- or well, a fan of her at all. At the time, Blaine had accused him of blasphemy. Kurt had shrugged and told him he only enjoyed one of her songs. When Blaine had asked which one, Kurt had changed the subject.

So it was Teenage Dream.

He was absolutely sure it couldn't be a coincidence.

He was rocking out so hard to Katy Perry (he nursed a massive soft spot for her) that he didn't notice Kurt was back until he spun around, wailing the chorus. He stopped abruptly, snatching the headphones out of his ears.

"Charming," Kurt grinned. "I can see I picked a keeper."

Blaine grinned back. "You're stuck with me. And this is your ipod, by the way. Teenage Dream, hmm?"

The tips of Kurt's ears glowed pink. "Give it back."

Blaine held it behind his back. "Any particular reason why this is the only Katy Perry song you like?"

"Oh god," Kurt groaned, "you already know, Blaine, must you lord it over me?"

"Yes," Blaine said, promptly. "I must, and I will."

"Fine." Kurt folded his arms. "I wasn't going to hold it over your head, but I've noticed you've been listening to Evita a lot. Now, I simply assumed it was because you enjoyed the musical, as I did, because we both clearly love Patti LuPone."

"Of course," Blaine said, nodding.

"But recently I discovered your opinion of the musical Evita and more specifically, the song Don't Cry For Me, Argentina, _before_ I auditioned for my solo."

Blaine felt his face blanch.

"Wes told me," Kurt said, lightly, "that you thought that song was rather over-done and trite. And yet now, it's a favorite of yours."

"Touche," Blaine managed to choke out.

"I thought so," Kurt said, satisfied, and brushed past Blaine, purposefully letting their bodies touch oh-so-lightly. "You might want to take a shower, the line's getting long," he said, and Blaine was absolutely certain that Kurt _purposely _hadn't dried himself off before pulling a t-shirt on after getting out of the shower, because the t-shirt was damn near soaking and leaving _nothing _to the imagination and was just entirely indecent...

"Tease," he muttered to himself, snatching his towel off the back of the door, and as he left he could have sworn he heard Kurt chuckle.

He spent an absurdly long amount of time in the shower with the water set all the way to freezing before he deemed it acceptable to leave.

Kurt was sitting cross-legged on his bed, filing his nails when Blaine entered the room. He looked up and grinned. "I like your hair like that."

"Silence, you." Blaine made a face.

"No, really." Kurt unfolded himself, stood up, and walked over to where Blaine stood in the doorway. "It's very... sexy." His hand reached up to threat through Blaine's hair and Blaine realized at that moment that all of his nerve endings had to be in his scalp, because how else could be be _so vibrantly aware _of the way that the pad of Kurt's thumb was pressed up against the skin behind his ear/ It was sending shivers all up and down his spine, and Blaine realized just how close he and Kurt were standing to each other and that he had _no idea_ how to act around a boy he had asked on a date but hadn't yet kissed, because usually with one came the other.

"Breakfast?" Kurt offered, a little breathlessly.

Okay, he could do this. He shook his head a little, dazed, and grinned at Kurt. "Only if you'll hold my hand."

Kurt sighed, theatrically. "If I must." But the shine in his eyes gave him away easily. He was fairly _glowing_, and Blaine was the _cause_ of that glow. He felt his chest tighten.

"Let me fix my hair," he said, ignoring Kurt's frustrated groan, "then we can go down."

"You're missing pancake buffet," Kurt threatened.

"Kurt Hummel, you of all people know how important styling one's hair is," Blaine said, reprovingly, and set to work with his copious amounts of hair product.

Kurt sat with relative patience on his bed, reading through the latest issue of Vogue for the thousandth time.

When Blaine was finally satisfied with his hair, he turned to Kurt, who was now examining his cuticles. "Ready to go?"

Kurt stood up. "I will refrain from commenting, as I do understand the importance of proper grooming and maintenance of one's hair. However, if my hair was as naturally lovely as yours is, I would not do what you do to it."

"You think my hair is lovely?" Blaine asked, uncertainly. He'd never heard anyone call it that and certainly had never thought of it like that before.

"Very," Kurt murmured, stretching out his arm as an invitation for Blaine to take his hand.

He didn't have to ask twice.

They didn't get a lot of looks as they entered the cafeteria hand in hand, but Blaine saw Wes and David high-five. Muttering to himself, he led Kurt over to their table.

Kurt yawned. "God, I'm _so_ tired," he said, innocently.

"Hard night?" Wes asked, faux-sympathetically, and David choked next to him.

Blaine tried really hard to blow them up with the forces of his mind.

Kurt either really had no idea what they were talking about, or he had an _amazing_ poker face. Either way, Blaine was impressed.

After an uncomfortable breakfast full of thinly veiled innuendos by Wes and David, Blaine and Kurt bid the two farewell and headed off to class, hand-in-hand. He wondered if pinching himself would be too cliché, but he still just couldn't believe that this was actually happening. He was holding hands with Kurt, their fingers laced together, and it actually _meant_ something. That Kurt's thumb was rubbing circles on the back of Blaine's hand and when their eyes met, they didn't look away, and Blaine could practically _hear_ the crackle of electricity between them.

They reached the door of Kurt's History class, and reluctantly, Blaine released his hand.

Kurt leaned up, his mouth so close to Blaine's ear, his warm breath setting the hairs on the back of Blaine's neck to stand up straight.

"I forgot to tell you this last night," he breathed, and Blaine's breath caught and _oh god, if Kurt said anything even remotely sexy he just might die._ "But I stole Puck's lawn gnome back over break," he murmured, and his icy fingers swept over Blaine's neck, and then he was gone.

Blaine collapsed against the wall, hands on knees, gulping in deep breaths of air. He knew he was going to be late for class, but he couldn't make his legs move. Suddenly, they seemed to have the consistency of pudding.

_Walk,_ said Blaine to himself. _Come on, you know how to do it, it's not that hard._

He recovered, wondering when the hell Kurt had learned to be such a freaking _tease_. What had happened to sweet, inexperienced Kurt?

_Santana and Brittany,_ offered the David-voice inside his head. _They've corrupted him._

xxxx

He met David and Wes in the library that night. Ordinarily, he and Kurt studied in their room together, but Blaine wasn't sure he could handle being around him anymore. During lunch, he'd been doing obscene things with his tongue to a spoonful of yogurt that left Blaine embarrassingly tense.

"He's driving me _crazy_," Blaine hissed, once the three of them had set up a barricade of books. "I can't take it anymore! I'm trying to be a gentleman, but he's making it _exceedingly_ difficult."

"Just hold on," Wes said, soothingly. "Friday is in two days. Then you can go to Breadstix and Kurt will kiss you inside your car, or wherever he's planning on kissing you." (1)

"Have you ever thought that maybe Kurt is doing this on purpose?" David asked. "That he's intentionally trying to seduce you so he doesn't have to make the first move?"

"Well, it's working," Blaine all-but-growled.

"Your self-restraint is astounding," Wes noted. "I would have jumped him by now."

Both Blaine and David looked at him.

"If I were gay and he wasn't taken by Blaine!" Wes raised his hands defensively.

"What has he done?" David asked, attempting to ignore Wes.

Blaine groaned, feeling his neck fire up. "_You _saw that thing at lunch with the spoon," he said, helplessly.

"Downright obscene, that was," David agreed.

"Shower. Wet shirt." Blaine got out.

Wes looked impressed. "Kid's good, for an amateur."

"What do I _do_?" Blaine begged.

"Seduce him back," Wes suggested. "But don't let him have anything. That'll mess him up."

"I don't know what turns him on," Blaine admitted, sheepishly.

"Luckily for you, we do," David said, opening a spiral-bound notebook. "In a non-creepy way!" he hastened to add, as Blaine gave him his trademark eyebrow-raise. "I mean, through observation and asking Mercedes. Did you know that Kurt has a thing for your body?"

Blaine's eyes widened.

Wes and David were wearing identical smirks. "Guess all those years of swim paid off." Wes winked.

David flipped through a few pages. "He's got a thing for suspenders," he noted.

"That's against Dalton dress code," Blaine protested.

Wes grinned. "Not if you wear them under your blazer. And take your blazer off when you and Kurt are alone in your dorm room."

"Where am I going to get a pair of suspenders?"

David and Wes just grinned at each other.

xxxx

No way in _hell _was this going to work, Blaine thought as he pulled off his blazer and draped it over the back of his desk chair. He still had absolutely no idea why he was following through with Wes and David's hare-brained plan to seduce Kurt, except that maybe it would make the other boy back off a little because he still had two days until Friday and he was going _crazy_.

He leaned back against his pillows, rolled up his shirt sleeves, and opened his French textbook.

Not five minutes later, the door creaked open as Kurt entered the room. Blaine didn't look up, only offered a quiet "bonjour".

Kurt said absolutely nothing in return, which was unusual, but maybe not so unusual given his recent behavior.

Blaine looked up from his book only to find Kurt staring at him, his jaw slack.

"Are you okay?" he asked politely, smothering his grin. It was really working! He could _kiss_ Wes and David right now.

"Guh," Kurt managed, and Blaine saw his hands twitch.

Now came the difficult part of the plan. Pushing Kurt, without pushing him too far. And without making it seem as if this was intentional.

Blaine yawned and stretched, placing the book on the bed beside him. He looped his thumbs underneath the suspenders and ran them up and down the length of the material.

Kurt's eyes followed the movement. He looked on the verge of either passing out or pouncing on Blaine.

Blaine licked his lips, and the look Kurt was giving him increased tenfold in intensity. And- ohmygod. Blaine was _not _supposed to be getting turned on by this. But seduced Kurt was possibly the sexiest thing he'd ever seen.

This was sort of backfiring on him. So he used plan B. The abort plan. He slid his hand down to his phone, resting on the bed beside the book, and pressed speed-dial 1.

Within seconds, David burst through the door. "Study group time!" he chirped, and Blaine felt ridiculously like laughing.

"Nice suspenders, Blaine."

Now he was really holding in the laughter as he stood up to greet David.

"Don't you think they're nice, Kurt?" David asked, innocently, and Blaine couldn't help it any longer. He snorted into his palm.

David's eyebrows were raised at him. Comprehension was beginning to dawn on Kurt's face, and Blaine really didn't like that look. He hastened to say, "Kurt really doesn't like my suspenders. They're probably a fashion felony or something. He's got that 'I'm-going-to-kill-you-for-what-you're-wearing' look on his face. This is why I rely on Dalton, and not myself, to dress me."

At this, Kurt quickly shook his head, his eyes still glued to Blaine's suspenders. "I like them," he finally managed.

"That's an understatement," David muttered, and Kurt elbowed him violently.

Blaine's smile grew broader, if that were possible. "Shall we study?"

"It's a little cold in here," Kurt said. "Don't you think you should put a jacket on?" He wrenched his eyes away from Blaine's suspenders to look at his face.

"Really? I thought it was kind of… hot in here," Blaine said, knowing full well he was laying it on thick.

"Absurdly hot, actually," David added, grinning.

"You're such a bastard," Kurt said, matter-of-factly.

Now _this_ was a turn of events. For a moment, all Blaine could do was blink. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Who told you?" Kurt demanded, stepping closer to him. "Was it Mercedes?"

David coughed awkwardly and slipped out of the room. Kurt didn't appear to notice.

"Told me what?" Blaine asked, playing dumb once again during confrontation. Wes always said it was a defense mechanism of his.

"About my _penchant_-" here Kurt reached out with one hand to curl his fingers around one of the suspenders, "-for _these_." He pulled the suspender, and let it snap back into place.

"Mercedes," Blaine admitted.

Kurt heaved a sigh, stepping back. "I thought so. Now will you please take those ridiculous things off, before I do something stupid and ruin all my perfect planning?"

Blaine was unable to stop a completely ridiculous grin from spreading over his face. "You've been planning?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, looking a lot more like the Kurt Hummel that Blaine was familiar with. "Of course. And I'm _going_ to kiss you, Blaine, I decided that already. I'm not going to just give this up because I'm _scared_. But I want it to be perfect." He picked up his bag again and slung it over his shoulder. "I'm going to the library."

"So you haven't been doing it on purpose?" Blaine blurted out, as Kurt twisted the doorknob.

Kurt turned a little. "Doing what on purpose?"

Blaine gestured wildly, a little flustered. "You know- the whispering, the wet shirt, the spoon thing at lunch…"

"Oh, that?" Kurt's smile was downright evil. "No, I've been doing that on purpose."

The door closed with a click behind him.

Blaine threw himself face-down on his bed, and screamed into his pillow in frustration.

xxxx

Blaine woke to the sound of Kurt's voice. He was whispering heatedly in the way that you did when you wanted to yell but also didn't want to wake anyone up.

Blaine peered through a fold in his blankets, squinting blearily as the clock. 5:42. Who the hell was up this early?

"Dad, come on-" Kurt was saying, and Blaine realized he could hear the other voice fairly clearly, which meant that Kurt was on Skype, not the phone.

_"I just don't want you to be pressured into doing things you aren't ready for."_

"Dad, Blaine isn't like that and you know it. You've met him. He's been the perfect gentleman. It's just _dinner_."

_"Has he... you know, respected you?"_

"We're taking this slow, Dad. He hasn't even kissed me."

_"Do you want him to?"_

Kurt groaned. "Do we really need to talk about this, Dad? Do you and Finn talk about this?"

_"Finn isn't my son," _Burt said. _"He's my stepson, and I love him, but he isn't you."_

Kurt groaned again, and glanced back at Blaine's bed. "Okay, fine. Yes. Of course I want him to kiss me. But, as I said, we're taking this slow."

This was a conversation Blaine probably wasn't supposed to hear. But there was no way he could fall asleep again.

_"And he's okay with that? With going slow?"_

"Jeez, Dad, what's up with the Spanish Inquisition? You weren't like this with Brittany."

_"That was different and you know it," _Burt's voice said. _"This boy is really interested in you, and it's my job to make sure he's treating you right."_

"_Dad_," Kurt muttered, casting a glance at Blaine's bed again.

A sigh from the other end. _"He cares about you, too, Kurt. So I'm going to trust you two to make the right choices."_

"_Thanks_, Dad," Kurt said sarcastically, but from the tone of his voice, Blaine could tell he was smiling. "Now go to work."

_"Take care, kid. Say hi to Blaine."_

"I will. I love you, Dad."

_"Love you too."_

He heard the "sign-out" ping, then the sound of typing as he debated the best way to "wake up".

"So, how long were you listening?" Kurt asked.

Blaine whipped the covers off his head and stared at Kurt, who had one eyebrow arched and his arms folded across his chest.

Kurt sniffed. "I am the master of eavesdropping. I can tell when other people are doing it."

"Just- just the tail end," Blaine mumbled.

Kurt sighed, shaking his head. "He's over-protective. You know."

"It's wonderful he cares so much," Blaine said, sincerely. Pavarotti chirped his agreement from the cage beside Kurt's bed. "You're very lucky."

"I am," Kurt agreed, softly.

They both listened to Pavarotti twitter to himself for a moment, then Blaine said, "what are you doing up so early?"

"I was stealing Wes' gavel," Kurt told him. "I wanted a picture of the gnome with it. Plus, I think Wes is almost more dependent on his gavel than he is on David."

"He has a power fetish," Blaine explained. "And your father works this early?"

"On Thursdays," Kurt said. "He owns a garage. I used to help him out with the cars."

"You're a grease monkey?" Blaine couldn't have stopped the words from coming out even if he'd wanted to.

Kurt's brow wrinkled. "Yes?" he said, slowly. "I help Dad in the garage after school a lot... or, I used to."

_Stop it_, Blaine told himself, but it was too late. He was already picturing Kurt in overalls with smudges of grease all over his skin.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked.

"Yes," Blaine muttered. "Uh. It's Thursday?"

Kurt looked amused, Blaine wasn't sure at what. "Yes."

"Wes is going to kill me. I'm supposed to wake him up for pancake buffet," Blaine said, slipping his feet into his school shoes (which looked rather absurd with his pajamas).

"Have fun," Kurt said, wiggling his fingers in a somewhat flamboyant but endearing way.

Harry and Pratik's door was ajar, open just enough that Blaine could see Pratik, seated cross-legged on his bed and holding the guitar that was really just an extension of his arms. He was playing it softly, plucking at the strings, and he seemed to be singing along. Blaine moved closer, trying to hear.

_Something in the way he moves..._

_ attracts me like no other lover..._

He, not she, as the Beatles song originally called for.

_Something in the way he moves me..._

_ Don't wanna leave him now..._

_ You know I believe in how..._

The look of pure anguish on Pratik's face was enough to make Blaine take a step backward, clear his throat, and knock lightly on the door.

The guitar-playing abruptly halted.

Blaine stepped inside. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, glancing at Harry, who was lying facedown on the bed and snoring softly.

Pratik didn't try to pretend he had no idea what Blaine was talking about. "Not really," he said, honestly. "But I probably should, shouldn't I?" he plucked the chorus to 'I Kissed A Girl' and Blaine chuckled appreciatively.

"Katy Perry?"

"How did you realize?" Pratik asked suddenly.

"Realize?"

"You know. That you liked boys. Or, have you known all your life? Or did you just wake up one day and-"

Blaine held up a hand. "No, I haven't known all my life. Not all of us are as lucky as Kurt, to know exactly who we are and what we want from the moment we can think for ourselves. I didn't know until I was eleven."

Pratik looked startled. "_Eleven_?" he repeated.

"My friends started having crushes on girls," Blaine explained, "and I didn't. In fact, I didn't even know what a crush felt like until my best friend at the time took me aside and told me how he felt about a girl in our homeroom- the jittery butterflies, the swooping feeling- and I realized that all this time, those were the feelings I was having about my best friend."

Pratik nodded, his lips pursed as if he was thinking hard.

"It took me awhile," he said. "I didn't come out until I as fourteen, and it was kind of like torture. My best friend was disgusted with me. He became my primary bully." He smiled slightly at Pratik's shocked expression. "This is Ohio, after all. Homophobia is rife here."

"But here- we never-" Pratik couldn't seem to get the words out.

Blaine shook his head. "Dalton is amazing. It's the first place I ever felt accepted. But I don't kid myself. I won't live here after I graduate. I will live somewhere where they can accept me."

"And... Kurt?" Pratik asked, and his gaze flashed to Harry on the bed, who was still dead to the world.

"If he still wants me then, when all this is over, I'll take him with me."

"I want to protect him," Pratik said, suddenly. "He has _no idea_ what people out there are really like. He's got this idea that they're like people at Dalton and they'll just _accept_ him, and even if they don't they won't say or do anything about not accepting him. He has no idea about how vicious people can be. He went to a private middle school."

Pratik looked at Blaine. "He's going to get himself hurt," he said. "He's never experienced the _hatred_ people have in their hearts." He picked up a newspaper and threw it at Blaine. The first thing Blaine saw was a large photograph of a determined-looking man holding a picketing sign that read 'God Hates Fags'.

He threw it to the side, feeling sick. "Fred Phelps," he snarled.

"He has _no idea_," Pratik repeated.

"Does he have any idea how you feel about him?" He'd only meant to take his mind away from the Westboro Baptist Church, but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Pratik gave him a long look, then laughed a little wistfully. "_I _don't even know how I feel about him, Blaine. I can't work it out."

The door creaked open, and Wes' head poked in. "Ah. I thought I heard your voice, Blaine. Kurt said you'd gone to find me. It's _pancake buffet morning._" He seemed to be restraining himself from yelling the last part. "Let's go before all the chocolate chip ones are gone."

Blaine leaned forward and clasped Pratik's hand, holding his gaze. "If you ever need to talk-"

Pratik smiled. "Thank you for your help."

"PANCAKES, Blaine," Wes said again, and yanked him out the door.

So maybe Harry had hope, after all.

**A/N: (1): It's not, FYI. Inside his car, I mean.**

**Who else finds Seductive!Kurt extraordinarily hilarious? I sure do. He's never really gotten a chance to be before and yet, for some reason I picture him being scarily good at it. He comes off as all sweet and innocent and naïve, but come on, Kurt. You've got to have a sex kitten in there.**

**Also, I don't like the people who make Blaine like Darren Criss. I mean, sure, he can be a fan of Harry Potter (but I mostly picture him watching it for Tom Felton in a sweater vest), and he can even eat red vines. But he is so clearly not Darren Criss. He's very different, and I for one think we need to embrace the **_**character**_** of Blaine separately from the **_**actor**_** of Darren Criss. Darren said himself that he is nothing like Blaine, just like how Chris Colfer is nothing like Kurt. If we can separate Chris and Kurt, why can't we separate Darren and Blaine? **

**That's what bugs me the most about a lot of fanfiction. They just can't separate Darren and Blaine. For those who can, bravo to you, good sir. You're amazing. **

**I LOVE DAPPER!BLAINE.**

**Which is pretty much just Blaine, you know? It's not like Kickass!Kurt or Seductive!Kurt. It's just Blaine=Dapper!Blaine. **

**Yeah. So. Review. **


	13. How Wonderful Life Is

**A/N: AND HERE IS THE DATE.**

**Thank you for being patient.**

**I was seriously going to make this the last chapter. I WAS. And then the epilogue wrote itself in my head and it's stupid and sappy and it's nearing five pages now and I meant it only to be short and sweet, but you know, whatever. We all love more sappiness in our lives. I'll never write angst. Sweetness makes me too happy. **

**As much as I would love to respond to ALL of your lovely reviews, I know it will take up too much space :( rest assured, I have read every single one and appreciate them all! They mean SO much to me. **

**Also, I'm glad so many people enjoyed Seductive!Kurt. He was a blast to write :) You should all try it, it's very therapeutic. Flustered!Blaine is also hilariously fun to write. **

**I've addressed a couple reviews that really stuck out to me:**

**Evol love: I definitely agree with you on Karofsky... at least, mostly. I am also rather terrified of him, for how he acted during "Furt". That really frightened me, because I've had issues with people like that, I know first-hand how frightening it can be not to know what people are going to do or what they're capable of. Those kinds of bullies are the scariest, because you have _no idea _what they're going to do. Especially if they've kissed you (again, has happened to me. Thank God I left England to do my last years of high school in America). **

**To Carve Love On Her Arms:**** that may be true, but I've read your fics and you definitely reference Darren in ways that I'm not used to. They're lovely, by the way. Your fics.**

**parADream:**** that was truly lovely, and thank you. Nobody has ever complimented me quite in that way, and I'm glad the characters I write seem real to you. I only hope I can continue to live up to those expectations.**

**aspiringtoeloquence:**** you always leave such thoughtful reviews, which is amazing. I actually have been reading Truth, Love, and Evolution, and have been very much enjoying it! Your Blaine is not annoying, because he is still ****_Blaine_. What bothers me is when people write Blaine as Darren, because he so definitely is not. I'm glad you agree with me about Karofsky. I really can't understand KurtxKarofsky shippers :/**

**abbylabby:**** Grilled Cheesus, that is the longest review I think I've ever gotten (I am IN NO WAY COMPLAINING YOU'RE AWESOME). Your QuinnxSam alien prediction had me dying because, I'm not even kidding, my best friend and I had this discussion like 2 days ago. No lie. THANK YOU so much for saying that about Finn and Rachel, I am SO SICK of them getting all the attention! Kurt has always been my favorite character and I felt like he never got the credit he deserved... thank god they've dived deeper into his character this season. Brittany is one of my favorites too but she doesn't really have any... character development... to dive into. And I just love Puck. How can you not? Yes. I look outside my window out onto a snow-covered campus and ALL I SEE ARE INSECTS. They're ****_everywhere_. And I could kiss you right now, for catching my super-subtle Starkid reference (because if another person puts "supermegafoxyawesomehot" or "totally awesome" into their fics I will scream). I am also absurdly happy about somebody catching the twittering away part I put for Pavarotti. I get FreePavarotti's tweets sent to my phone. Yes. **

**paintupurple: TELLMEABOUTTHEVALENTINE'SDAYEPISODENOW. **

** Or I will be forced to unleash my fury upon you.**

**I love writing Burt so much. He kind of reminds me of my best guy friend, in a weird way. Ahhhh, Nate. He's so over-protective of my virtue. lolz. Um. Yes. Kurt is a Klepto. I'm ashamed to admit that in this way, I have modeled him after me. I actually meant to write a scene in which Wes freaked out over his missing gavel. Ahhh well. There are a lot of things I meant to write for this story that I didn't end up writing because they didn't fit in. Perchance I will make a series of out-take oneshots. Seductive Kurt I LOVE to write, because I can see Blaine (gentlemenly, poised, put-together Blaine) getting all flustered and ONLY Kurt could do that to him ;)**

** So. That is why this chapter has been dedicated to aspiringtoeloquence, paintupurple, and abbylabby, for your amazing (and thoughtful) reviews. You guys rock.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, goddammit. Nor do I own Darren Criss or Chris Colfer. Nor do I own the characters of Eric, Harry, or Pratik. (But I own Darren Criss' sunglasses, bitches. And I totally just ordered one of the ties Kurt wears, the one with the little cricket player on it). **

Blaine knew it was Friday morning before he even opened his eyes. The thought filled him simultaneously with the feelings of impatience, anxiety, and excitement, all rolled into one massive bundle of nerves. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so nervous. He hadn't even felt like this before Sectionals.

He heard the springs in Kurt's bed creak and rolled over just as Kurt did. For a while they just lay like that, looking at each other.

Kurt broke the silence. "Hi," he whispered.

"Hi," Blaine whispered back. "Our date is tonight."

"I'm excited." Kurt's cheeks pinked a little at this admission, and Blaine was reminded that no matter how experienced Kurt may act, he was so new to all of this.

"I'm nervous," Blaine confessed. "But yeah, excited too."

The rest of the day seemed to go by in a bizarre blur. He and Kurt were mercilessly teased at lunch by David and Wes, and for once, neither of them retaliated with biting one liners that left the two boys bandaging their wounds.

He was asked several times by various teachers if he was okay, if he needed to see the nurse. His response every time was the weak "It's Friday" excuse that they somehow accepted, as if the weekend was even close to important to him.

He just could _not stop thinking _about Kurt. Kurt's eyes and lips and chin and cheekbones were far more interesting subjects of thought than how many times Julius Caesar had been stabbed and how to solve for the cosign of C. He had already spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about Kurt's hair, and now that he knew what it felt like and how soft it was…

He nearly fell out of his seat when the bell rang signaling the end of the day, and felt like both throwing up and pumping his fist in the air.

He darted up to his room as quickly as possible, hoping to get in and out before Kurt could even get there. He threw his blazer and tie on his bed, leaving his uniform pants and collared shirt on, and pulled Kurt's cashmere sweater over his head, carefully smoothing a few stray curls back into place with his hair product. He slid both his pocket watch and cell phone into his pocket, checking the time as he left the dorm room. 2:30. Exactly on time. He'd told Kurt to be ready by 3:30.

30 more minutes, and he'd be knocking on that door again.

He let himself into Wes' room, and flicked on the TV, resting his chin on his hand. Time was _crawling_. He was sure that Wes had rigged the clock to go twice as slow, but when he checked his watch, the time was the same.

Finally, _finally_, it was 3:30.

He should've known Kurt would tease him for knocking on his own door. It was the epitome of cheesiness, true, but Blaine wanted to do this thing _right_. He knew it was Kurt's first date ever. And he had to make it count.

As he smiled charmingly at Kurt, who began to look a little flustered, he knew he'd made the right choice.

"You look amazing," he said, and really, Kurt did. He was wearing a blue sweater that managed to both look absurdly soft and also bring out the color of Kurt's eyes, and a pair of silvery-black pants so tight Blaine feared they were cutting off circulation to Kurt's legs.

The broad smile on Kurt's face told him he'd said exactly the right thing.

Blaine offered his arm: "shall we?" and Kurt took it.

The locket Blaine had given him swung a little around Kurt's neck, and something in Blaine's chest hummed.

"I like your sweater," Kurt said. "Who gave it to you?"

Blaine smiled and rolled his eyes a little, playing along. "I don't know, just this… you know, amazing guy with an awesome fashion sense who apparently spends a great deal of time gazing at my eyes."

"Well, how is he supposed to help himself, with eyes like yours?" Kurt said, and Blaine's heart thudded against his ribcage so loudly he was sure Kurt could hear it.

They'd reached Blaine's car at that point, and Blaine opened the passenger-side door for Kurt, gesturing for him to get in. They drove to the restaurant holding hands the whole two hours, for once _not _trying to pretend that it didn't mean anything. The conversation was light, easy- never once touching on what they were or what this could possibly mean.

They could feel it, though- the unasked question, floating there in the darkness of the car.

They were standing a little too close together to be just friends when they arrived at Breadstix, but to the waitress' credit, she said nothing. She led them to a more private table over in the corner, smiling a little sadly at them as she handed them their menus and told them to just "give a shout" if they needed anything at all.

"I like her," Blaine decided. "She doesn't let fear cloud her judgement."

"Women tend to be more open to male gays than men are," Kurt said, a little cuttingly, "seeing as they can't catch gay from us and we won't try to molest and convert them, since we like men."

"You have a really depressing view of the world," Blaine noted, catching Kurt's hand again with his. "Lighten up, would you?"

Kurt looked around a little nervously, then tried to draw his hand out of Blaine's. Blaine tightened his grip.

"Hey," he said in a low voice. Kurt was avoiding eye contact. "Hey, look at me."

Reluctantly, Kurt looked up. Blaine could see the abject panic in his clear eyes.

"I didn't really think this through," Kurt whispered, and a knot of ice-cold fear formed in Blaine's stomach. What was Kurt trying to say?

Kurt saw the look that must have appeared on Blaine's face, because he stopped trying to pull out of Blaine's grasp and instead looked horrified. "Not you! Oh god, Blaine, not you. I lo- I mean… I- I didn't really think _this_ through." He waved his other free hand. "We're in Lima, Blaine. People here don't accept us. I mean, sure. They could tolerate me being the weird little feminine gay kid in Glee Club because I was _harmless_ and _alone_ and nobody was interested in me. But they sure as hell can't tolerate me meeting someone who might, god forbid, find me _attractive_ or want to _date me_."

Kurt was getting worked up, redness spreading up from the back of his neck and ears to fan out over his cheeks, and even though Blaine knew this was serious, he also couldn't help but think of how unfair it was that Kurt could still look that ridiculously attractive. When Blaine got angry, he turned purple.

"Especially when that someone is as attractive as_ you _are," said Kurt, and Blaine knew his hands were shaking, but he didn't care as he reached across the table and caged Kurt's face between them.

Kurt stopped talking.

"Kurt," Blaine said, in a low voice. "This place is important to you, because _this_ is where everyone from your school goes on dates, and you've never had that, and I _get_ that, Kurt, I really do. And you saw how that waitress acted. Anyone acts up against us, they'll be out in an instant." He let go of Kurt's face and reached for his hand again. "So could you please forget about how wrong everyone else thinks it is, and focus on how _right_ it _feels_?"

Kurt was looking at him with something akin to wonder in his eyes, a look that Blaine definitely did not deserve. "Why are you so perfect?" he asked.

"I'm not," Blaine said, and quickly continued when Kurt looked like he was going to protest. "Really. I'm not. Kurt, before you met me, I was… repressed. My personality was so squashed under Dalton because I had no idea how to be myself and fit in, too. Even around Wes and David, I couldn't actually… be me. You know, talk about Vogue and how much I love the musical Rent. I mean, they might be Glee guys but they're- well, like Puck, sometimes. You taught me how to be myself, Kurt." He smiled a little, then sang softly, "_Before you met me, I was all right, but things were kind of heavy…_"

"I'm beginning to think that song is kind of our anthem," Kurt said, gently stroking a hand across Blaine's knuckles.

"It was perfect for us, and it was pure coincidence," Blaine agreed.

"I prefer to think it was a little more than coincidence, that I was there on that day to hear you sing it," said the other boy, still smiling. He shrugged. "Call it fate."

Blaine was absolutely sure he would never love anyone in his life as much as he loved Kurt in that moment.

"Oh, and I brought something with me," Kurt said, reaching into his bag and pulling out Puck's lawn gnome.

… Okay, he could _totally_ love Kurt more.

"_If you're crazy, I don't care, you amaze me,_" he sang softly, reaching forward with his other hand so both of their hands were tangled with each other.

Kurt laughed. "I don't know whether to be offended or flattered."

Somebody cleared their throat, and the boys looked up. Kurt didn't try to pull his hands out of Blaine's grasp.

"What can I get you boys?" the waitress asked, smiling.

Blaine ordered spaghetti, and Kurt made fun of him for going all Lady-and-the-Tramp date, but his smile gave him away as he ordered spaghetti, too.

After he'd handed her their menus and the waitress left, Blaine turned back to Kurt only to find Kurt already looking at him.

"It's so weird," Blaine murmured, slipping his hands back into Kurt's.

Kurt cocked his head to the side, with an adorably confused look on his face. "What is?"

"That out of all the people at Dalton, you chose _me _to stop that first day on the staircase."

To his surprise, Kurt looked a little shifty. "Okay, that may not have been… a _total _coincidence."

Blaine's eyebrows furrowed.

"My first thought was any guy with that much product in his hair _had _to play for team Gay, although… my gaydar had been off before…" he mumbled, trailing off. "I mean… Sam…"

"Well, you were dead-on with me," Blaine chuckled.

"And then you turned around and had that smile-" Kurt continyed, "it kind of flashed in my mind that I _needed_ to transfer here if all the boys were that ridiculously good-looking."

Blaine ducked his head a little, sure that the grin spreading across his face was goofy-looking. "I flirted a little," he admitted.

A delighted smile broke across Kurt's face. "What do you mean?"

"Would you really hold hands with someone you just met? And there was absolutely nothing wrong with your jacket when I fixed it. I just kind of wanted an excuse to be close to you."

"I-oh," Kurt said, his eyes wide. "I guess I didn't know. I'd never been flirted with before."

"And I didn't know that," Blaine replied, smiling. "You seemed so comfortable and confident in your own skin- you still do."

"You have to be either confident or invisible to survive at McKinley," Kurt said, fiddling with the salt-and-pepper shakers. "Since invisibility wasn't really an option for me, I lived with confidence. Even if it killed me."

"You know you don't have to do that with us," Blaine said, softly. "Put up that biting mask of sarcasm. And you don't do it, not with me, and I _love_ that. But you don't have to with any of the other guys, either."

"I've been working on it," Kurt said, equally as quiet. "It's been a defense of mine for as long as I can remember. Kind of like you playing stupid."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Blaine quipped, and they both grinned. "Look, I'm not saying stop being _funny_. I love your sense of humor."

"You were the only one who laughed at my coal mine joke," Kurt agreed.

"I'm saying don't put up a wall when people try to get close to you."

"I guess I'm still in amazement," Kurt said. "Dalton is _so different_ from McKinley. Wes and David will hold my hands and touch me without fearing people will think they're gay or that they'll 'catch the gay'. Yes," he added, at the look on Blaine's face, "that is a legitimate fear in the hearts of many McKinley students, and I am aware that it is not possible."

"Unbelievable," Blaine breathed, shaking his head. "The cretins where I came from… well, they were bad, but they weren't _that _uneducated or unintelligent. They just thought I chose to be gay."

"And how all the Dalton boys acted when you kissed my hand?" Kurt said. "They're all rooting for us. Cheering us on. And to me, that's so strange."

Blaine shook his head, laughing. "It's not at all weird to them."

"And that's the best part about it. It's not just because of the no-bullying policy, they actually _like _me. They actually really don't care if I'm gay. I mean, well, the people in New Directions didn't care either, but they'd never be comfortable actually- seeing me with another boy. Much less cheering it on."

Blaine's lips twitched a little. "That's because they're far more used to openly gay people here. There are far more at Dalton than McKinley."

"Openly gay at McKinley? That's be zero, now that I'm gone," Kurt said, reaching forward to take a sip from his water glass.

"Give them time," Blaine said. "They'll get used to the idea of you having a-" he stumbled a little, and Kurt put down his glass quickly.

They'd finally reached it. The question.

Kurt was the one to ask it. "What are we?"

Blaine thought he'd prepared for this question. But when he was placed in the actual setting, with Kurt looking at him with such open inquiry, he froze up. And chose the safe option.

"We're whatever you want us to be."

Kurt leaned back, a disappointed look on his face, and Blaine knew he'd said the wrong thing.

"May I be frank?" Kurt asked.

Blaine nodded. "Go ahead."

"That's a major cop-out. Now tell me what you _really_ want from me, and what we _really_ are."

Blaine took a deep breath and for once, nothing was rehearsed. "I want this to last, not to just be a quick burnout fling that we regret. I want to walk you to class holding your hand and kiss you at the door. I want us to share an umbrella and I want to kiss you in the rain. I want David and Wes to tease us about how sickeningly adorable we are but we won't care because we're so _happy_. I want you to rag on me all the time about my horrible fashion sense and drag me around to millions of stores. I want us to sing romantic duets to each other and slow-dance together at Prom. I want to be able to fall asleep holding you and with you holding me. I want us to surprise each other with spontaneous field trips and vacations, and I want us to take the gnome with us because let's face it, he's pretty much our adopted child at this point." He leaned forward, holding Kurt's gaze with his own. "I-I want to be your boyfriend, Kurt." He laughed, a little nervously. "We can sing about it, if you like."

"You are so _stupid_." Kurt laughed. "I didn't need all that, but it was beautiful, so thank you."

"So that's a...?" prompted Blaine.

"Yes, that's a yes," Kurt said quickly, his hands tightening over Blaine's.

"All right, boys," the waitress said, and their hands slipped apart as she set down their plates. "Be careful, these are really hot."

"Thank you so much," Blaine said, catching the waitress' eyes, trying to express what he couldn't say.

She held his gaze. "No need to thank me. For anything."

And that's the way it should be, Blaine thought happily. That's the way _everyone_ should be, as gentle and unassuming as this waitress was. They dug into their spaghetti in silence.

Blaine nearly choked when Kurt's foot ran up his leg. He glared at Kurt, who blinked back innocently.

"Kurt, what are you doing?" he asked, hoping that in the dim lighting of the restaurant his blush couldn't be seen too clearly.

"Boyfriend rights." Kurt smiled, and his foot climbed a little higher-

Blaine sucked in a breath. "Kurt," he said, finally. "Not that I don't like the way you're thinking, but this is too much, too fast. We haven't even kissed yet."

"Right," said Kurt, regretfully, and dropped his foot.

They held hands for the rest of the meal (Blaine, once again, eating left-handed with much difficulty), while the gnome supervised. Kurt pulled out his phone once their spaghetti was gone, and snapped a completely ridiculous picture with the gnome next to the Breadstix hostess booth. Blaine took one with his own phone of just Kurt, with the gnome balanced on his shoulder- he was laughing, showing flashes of white teeth and pink tongue.

It was probably the cutest thing he'd ever seen.

On Blaine's insistence, they tipped the waitress generously.

The sky outside was bright and clear, nearly as perfect as it had been the night Blaine had asked Kurt out. He towards the moon, embracing the cold air biting his cheeks.

"Spandex shirts are never acceptable outside skiing or the gym," he heard Kurt say.

"Pardon?" he asked, politely.

Kurt subtly gestured to a woman walking down the other side of the road, wearing long black spandex leggings with a matching shirt and a black beanie. "She looks like she's about to pull off a major bank heist," he said, and Blaine started laughing.

"What?" Kurt asked, but Blaine kept laughing as he pulled Kurt against him and pressed his lips to his forehead, standing on his toes to do so. When he pulled away, Kurt's face was flushed.

"What?" he snapped, a little irritably, and Blaine chuckled, squeezing his hand.

"Have I ever told you how wonderful you are?"

"Not recently," Kurt said slyly, and Blaine laughed again.

He kept waiting for it. He was waiting for it as he lingered for a fraction of a second longer at the passenger door when he opened it for Kurt. He was waiting for it as he hesitated to start the car.

Kurt said he had the perfect plan for the kiss. Was it too late? Had he ruined it somehow, back in the restaurant? Despite Kurt's carefree chatter and easy attitude, Blaine's stomach stayed a tight bundle of nerves the entire way back to Dalton.

"So I had an idea," Kurt said as they pulled into the student parking lot, and there went Blaine's stomach again.

"Oh yeah?" he managed.

"Yeah," Kurt nodded, and opened his door before Blaine could even think of doing it for him. He ducked his head back into the car. "Follow me."

He followed Kurt willingly enough, even if he had no idea where this was going.

He was semi-surprised when Kurt led him into the Senior Commons. There were still a few boys working in there- including Harry and Pratik, who were pouring over a notebook of sheet music. Harry caught his eye and winked. (Eric was asleep on top of a bookshelf).

"Remember this?" Kurt stepped backwards until he was by the back wall, motioning for Blaine to stay in the doorway. He began to sing softly. "_You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream..._"

Blaine laughed appreciatively. Kurt's voice caught on the words so _perfectly_, and for a moment he was actually a little bit jealous.

"I remember," he said, taking a step forward. "Wes and David, afterward- God, the teasing was horrendous." _So who's the new kid you were practically undressing with your eyes? Did he notice the way you were looking at him? Always knew you had a thing for spies, Blaine... you always want to watch James Bond. _

Kurt arched an eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything in regards to his comment. "What were you thinking?" he asked.

"Mostly, I was ecstatic that this gorgeous boy had shown up so I'd actually be able to sing _to_ someone for once."

A satisfied smile spread across Kurt's face. "Okay," he said, and sort of hop-skipped towards Blaine until he was holding his hand again. "Onward."

He allowed himself to be pulled along until they reached the Lounge, where Kurt tugged Blaine through the doors.

"Remember this?" he asked, and Blaine was starting to understand what Kurt was doing.

"_But baby, it's cold outside.._." he sang softly, crossing the room to play a few notes on the piano keys.

Kurt smiled. "What were you thinking?"

_This_, Blaine knew, he had to be careful with. Because a lot of the things he'd been thinking weren't really appropriate to share at this stage in their relationship. "Mostly I was in awe of your voice," he said. "How you could take a part that's traditionally female and make it your own. I was also trying really hard not to think of anything else, because if I thought about how cute you were or how much I wished we hadn't skipped the middle part, I would forget the words to the song and ruin the duet."

"_Gosh_, _your lips look delicious..._" Kurt sang softly from across the room, his eyes locking with Blaine's, and hearing Kurt sing _that_ line- in the deeper tenor that was required for the male part- was almost too much for Blaine to handle.

"Next stop," Kurt said airily, and Blaine thought he might die because how the _hell _had Kurt learned to be _such a tease_?

He checked his pocket watch. "Curfew is in fifteen minutes."

"Don't worry, I know a shortcut."

Kurt smirked at this, and Blaine knew where they were going. Therefore, he wasn't much surprised when they stopped in the mouth of Windsor Hallway.

Kurt's hand reached out to lace fingers with Blaine's, and he grinned. "Ready?"

He started to run, gripping Blaine's hand tightly, and just like the first time they'd run through this hallway together- months ago- Blaine felt as if life was moving in slow-motion. Like the whole world was spinning twice as slowly, and all he could focus on was the laughter on Kurt's face.

The skidded, laughing, into the hall that led to Kieran House, and still laughing, Kurt started up the stairs.

"Kurt-" Blaine said, from the bottom of the stairwell. "Those are the wrong stairs."

Kurt turned with a broad smile on his face, as if he'd been expecting Blaine to say that. "No, they aren't." He took two steps down.

And suddenly, Blaine knew _exactly _where Kurt was going with this, and he could smack himself for being so thick.

"Remember _this_, Blaine?" Kurt asked, softly, taking another step down. "This is where we met."

He was so very close now. Blaine could probably count his eyelashes, if he were so inclined to do so. But his gaze was locked on those clear blue eyes inches from his face.

Hands landed on his shoulders, and Kurt's face was _so so_ close, and Blaine's eyelids fluttered shut of their own accord.

A hesitant touch. That's what it was. Just a brush of lips, but Blaine _promised_ Kurt he would kiss him back. And he intended to keep that promise, so help him _God_.

His hands moved without his permission, one landing to rest on Kurt's hip and the other moving to thread through the hair at the base of Kurt's neck, and he tilted his head because he was going to _show_ Kurt, he was going to _teach_ him, goddammit, what a kiss could be when it was with someone who loved you as much as he loved Kurt.

And when Kurt's mouth opened tentatively underneath his, something in his chest snapped and he tugged Kurt down the steps until he was at the same level as Blaine, and somehow Kurt's hands had moved- one fisting in Blaine's sweater and one cupped against his jaw- and _holy shit _Blaine didn't curse but was that Kurt's _tongue_? And just when he thought Kurt couldn't possibly break him any more than he already had, he made this noise- just a little gasp, really- and Blaine knew that he would _forever_ do _whatever_ it took to make Kurt happy, and if that meant kissing him until they both passed out from lack of oxygen, well, he was _more _than happy to do that.

Kurt was the one to start it, he had to end it. He separated gently from Blaine, stroking a thumb across Blaine's cheek as they opened their eyes.

"I kissed you," Kurt said, and his voice and face were so full of amazement that Blaine couldn't help a chuckle escaping.

"Yes, you did," he murmured, resting his forehead against Kurt's.

"And you kissed me back," Kurt said, his voice a little rough.

"I said I would," Blaine said, lifting the hand on Kurt's hip to lace fingers with the hand that Kurt had had tangled in Blaine's sweater.

Kurt looked so little and confused in that moment.

"What's wrong?" Blaine asked, gently.

"Was it- did you-I mean... was it okay?" he asked uncertainly.

A bubble of warmth expanded in his chest. "Kurt, it was _so much better_ than 'okay'."

"Really?" Kurt asked, in a very small voice.

"I have no idea how you learned to kiss like that."

"I dated a cheerleader once," he admitted.

"I think you might have mentioned that before. Remind me to thank her later."

"It was Brittany," Kurt said, a small smirk appearing in the corner of his mouth, and Blaine couldn't take his eyes off of it.

"Candy, then. Or something shiny."

Kurt laughed, and Blaine couldn't help but notice that his gaze wasn't straying far from Blaine's lips either.

"I really want to kiss you again," Kurt said, with the air of someone revealing a major secret.

"You don't have to ask permission, you know," Blaine said. "Especially when the answer will always be the same."

There was a gleam in Kurt's eye that Blaine had only ever seen before when he was singing as Kurt leaned in.

They almost missed curfew.

Blaine's heart was nearly at bursting point as he and Kurt slid into their room at 9:59, flushed, giggling, breathless. He was pretty sure it exploded when Kurt shyly climbed into Blaine's bed with him, cuddled up under his arm and laid his head across his chest, curling into him. He tightened his arm around Kurt's frame and pressed his face into his hair, thinking that Kurt _must _be able to hear his heartbeat.

"_My heart is bound to beat right out my untrimmed chest..."_ he sang softly, and Kurt giggled, snuggling in even closer.

Maybe someday he'd pull the key from around his neck and open the locket still chained around Kurt's. They'd trace the letters he'd gotten engraved inside together and maybe Kurt would kiss him and they'd whisper those words to each other as they fell asleep at night and when they woke in the morning.

For now, though, he would put every waking effort into _showing_ Kurt Hummel just how much he loved him.

**A/N: That ending was so sappy I might get a cavity. But I think it worked, somehow.**

**And I hate writing angst. I can read it, sometimes. But I suck balls at writing it so never expect a sad ending or even an angsty fic from me. It won't happen cuz I'm too much of a fluffball. **

**So that's the end! *claps hands*. Well... until the epilogue. But that... doesn't count.**

**(okay, it totally does)**

**But right now we're at 13 chapters.**

**13. **

**Aka the best number ever (or unluckiestcough).**

**So, I must thank you all again. You are all amazing. For taking time out of your lives to read and critique this story, and you were all so lovely in your reviews that no matter how crappy my day was, reading them just made me feel better. All you lovely people out there- I love you.**

**Klaine's gonna happen. It's gonna.**

**paintupurple: you better be tellin' me about that V-day episode. Imma be checking for your review. **


	14. Epilogue

**A/N: Weird. I meant for this to be short, to resolve loose endings, you know? And it ended up being 9 pages. Strange how that happens. **

**By the way, Andrea, I know you read this fic. Take your mac and cheese dish out of my microwave, it's been there for a week and something green is starting to grow in it. I don't want to touch it. **

**DARREN FRIKKIN' CRISS TWEETED ABOUT KLAINE.**

**DarrenCriss: ****So there's KLAINE, and then there's KURT COBLAINE. I've just recently heard the latter and I think it's incredible. **

**DARREN, I LOVE YOU.**

**YOU GUYS. Are so freaking sweet. I read all your reviews and really, I am so grateful to all of you for the lovely things you've said. You are all absolutely amazing. **

**alianne19, you caught it. You caught the almost-"I love you". You're awesome. **

**YOU'RE ALL AWESOME.**

**1. Watch for my V-day fic! It's a oneshot (but it's f-king LONG, the longest oneshot I've ever written), and it's I guess AU cuz it has nothing to do with the GAP, the song 'Misery', or the song 'When I Get You Alone'. (or Mercedes being a cockblock...)**

**2. If you guys have any prompts for oneshots or chapter fics, I would love to see them. Nothing M or NC-17 rated, please, just cuz I'm hopelessly virginal and I really don't want to embarrass myself by writing porny stuff. But yeah, just tell me your prompts in your reviews and I'll try to fill!**

**Disclaimer: there is no owning of Glee, only some fluffy plotlines that come from the mentally unstable parts of my brain. Fare thee well.**

**EPILOGUE**

**May, 2016**

Blaine straightened his tie for what had to be the fifth time since he'd gotten into the car. Wes and Puck were arguing over the radio, he was wedged in between David and Tina, and he felt like he might throw up.

Puck caught his eye in the rear view mirror and grinned. "Chill, dude. Your tie is fine, and it was fine the first time you fixed it, too. It's just a graduation. It isn't like you're planning to propose."

Blaine knew he was doomed as all the blood in his body rushed to his face.

Puck slammed on the brakes and a car horn behind them blared angrily. He casually flipped them off through the window. "Sorry, no, I'm not that shocked, I did that to piss off that asshole behind us. I think Wes is about to crap his pants, though."

Blaine started rubbing his forehead agitatedly.

"_Why didn't you tell me?_" Wes cried, looking as if he wanted to glomp Blaine, but couldn't because of the seatbelt restraining him.

"I'm the best man, right?" David asked, and Tina shot him this look like _"really?" _

She turned to Blaine.

"When did you decide this?"

"I'm asking him tonight," Blaine mumbled. "I just... I can't think of... the perfect time."

"So he's the chick?" Puck asked, and it was Wes' turn to dig him in the side.

Blaine had never expected to become so _close_ to New Directions. But after he and Kurt had started dating (and lasted longer than a month, which seemed to convince New Directions that this was a legitimate relationship, and not like all of their strange sporadic romances), he'd been welcomed with open arms. And he'd been just as surprised when Wes and David slid easily into the group, too, as if they'd belonged there from the start. (David and Mercedes even dated for a while, but eventually decided that it was only because they were the only black people in the group, and that's really not grounds for a good relationship).

He'd certainly never expected Wes and Puck to become so close, or David and Tina. But here he was in a car five years after he'd graduated high school, with the people who'd become his closest friends during those years. And he loved them all.

Tina's phone buzzed, and she held up a finger to pause the conversation, looking down at it. "Britt and Santana are going to be late. Apparently they got there and Santana realized Brittany forgot to wear shoes."

This was normal. Blaine smiled fondly, thinking of the vapid blond girl whom he'd nursed a soft-spot for ever since their second meeting, when she'd whispered to him that his eyebrows reminded her of angry caterpillars.

"We need to get back to the topic at hand," David said, frowning. "Blaine is wooing his boy tonight and all you can talk about is who's going to be late? We're sitting in the back, anyway, Kurt won't notice. This is far more important."

"Oh, look, we're here," Blaine said gratefully, unbuckling his seatbelt and scrambling over David in his haste to get out of the car.

"Don't think you've gotten out of this, young man," said David threateningly, jabbing a finger at Blaine. "You will tell us all your plans later."

Blaine rolled his eyes, and crossed the lawn to take a seat next to Mercedes, who grinned at him and laced their fingers together. "Are you proud?"

"Incredibly." Blaine said, seriously.

"You two are so perfect for each other," Mercedes said, sounding almost amused-annoyed. "Must be why you out-lasted every other couple in the group by about three or four years."

Blaine laughed. "Or we lack the drama you all have."

"There's another reason," Mercedes acknowledged as the others caught up to them.

_Five years._

Blaine closed his eyes, and tipped his head back, soaking in the warmth of the mid-day sun.

Six years ago, before he'd even met Kurt, he would have said the whole idea of "love-at-first-sight" was a myth, as well as the idea that you could meet the love of your life in high school, of all places. Maybe the first was still a myth, but Blaine now believed in the _roots_ of love- the _possibility_ of love- appearing in that first glance.

Blaine had kind of known from the moment the quiet voice said "excuse me?" and he'd turned around at the bottom of the Windsor staircase that morning, that he could possibly fall head-over-heels in love with the boy standing before him, with the porcelain skin and flawless hair. He'd known he _was_ head-over-heels in love when Kurt turned away from the window in his rendition of _Don't Cry For Me, Argentina,_ and he'd known that he was going to spend the rest of his life with the boy when he'd finally gotten up the courage to open Kurt's locket.

It'd been the night before Blaine's high school graduation, and Kurt had been maybe freaking out a little (maybe a lot). The two of them had declined the offer to party with Wes and David and the other Warblers in the Senior Commons, preferring instead to stay up in Kurt's room together (unfortunately, they no longer shared a room- the administration had seen to that the moment they'd gone public with their relationship).

Kurt had been panicky, and so had Blaine. But whereas Kurt got red-eyed and withdrawn and wouldn't look at anything but the figures he'd been tracing on Blaine's palm for the last hour, Blaine got anxious and rambly, and _just wouldn't shut up_.

And that's when it slipped out, somewhere amongst his panicked ramblings, and he kind of hoped that maybe Kurt hadn't heard it, except that he _so definitely had, _from the way his mouth fell open and his hands froze.

He tried to frantically backpedal, but there was really nothing to back-pedal on. He'd meant what he said, and he didn't really want to take it back because that would make it seem like he hadn't meant it. He finally settled on "that wasn't the way I meant to tell you", with his eyes downcast, and suddenly Kurt's fingers were there, gripping his chin, and their gazes locked, and Kurt leaned forward and kissed him _so gently._

As he pulled back, Kurt breathed, "_I love you_."

He really hadn't expected the words to have such an effect on him. He must have made some noise of shock, because Kurt went on.

"I've been trying to figure out how to tell you for a month now," Kurt said, with a little laugh. "What do you think I've been writing on your hand all night? I was actually going to tell you tomorrow after graduation, but you beat me to it."

Blaine really had no idea what to say, and the thoughts that _did_ come forward were far too sappy and romantic and frankly _embarrassing _to say out loud.

So instead, he reached to unclasp the key from around his neck. He'd stopped hiding it under his shirt three weeks after they'd started dating (because really, wearing something around your _neck_ that you're trying to hide from your _boyfriend_- especially when making out- was just a stupid idea), but after he'd refused to tell Kurt what it was. After the first time he'd asked, Kurt hadn't questioned it.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Am I about to find out what the elusive key is for?"

"Are you wearing your necklace?"

It should have already told Blaine how much Kurt loved him, the fact that he wore it _every day_, even on weekends, when it sometimes didn't match his outfit.

The key eased into the keyhole, Blaine turned it, and it popped open.

"It's a locket?" Kurt asked, seeming genuinely surprised, but then again, that wasn't strange. He'd made sure the hinges were well-hidden.

There were no pictures inside. On one side, there was a small oval of glass, and maybe someday there would be a picture in it. On the other side, there were three words, in the same script as the "courage" engraved on the back.

Kurt's mouth formed into an "o", and he stroked his fingers over the letters. "You gave me this for Christmas," he breathed.

Blaine tilted his head to the side.

"You've loved me since Christmas?" he asked, and Blaine couldn't quite read whatever was going on in his head.

But Blaine closed his eyes and sort of smiled to himself. "Kurt, I've been waiting for a long time for us to open that locket."

And then Kurt's lips were on his again, and they were falling backwards onto Blaine's bed, and Kurt's hands were in places they hadn't dared venture before...

And Blaine shook himself from remembering _that _particular part of their night, because he was _so not going there_ in the middle of a crowd of people.

Pomp and Circumstance was playing, and everyone was standing up, and the graduates were marching down the aisle, proud grins plastered across their faces, and- and there he was. It was almost ridiculous how he could pull off a graduation gown and motor board like he belonged on a runway. He was so beautiful it made Blaine's chest ache.

Brittany and Santana shuffled quietly into seats beside him.

"Did we miss anything?" Santana murmured. Blaine turned to smile at her.

"No, they just arrived."

Brittany's hand slipped into his.

Both girls had changed _so much_, and yet so little. Blaine still wasn't sure about the status of their friendship/relationship- he had no idea what they were- but Santana was still so fiercely protective of Brittany, and Brittany was still very much dependent on Santana. But Santana wasn't quite the bitch that she'd been back in high school, and neither of them slept around (much) anymore.

Actually, it'd been a while since Santana had made a gay joke to Blaine, too.

There was nothing quite like best friends, Blaine thought, as the entire group jumped to their feet and started cheering when Kurt got his diploma. In typical Kurt fashion, he struck a model pose for the camera, before strutting off the stage.

They had to wait for what seemed like hours for Kurt to get out of his graduation cap and gown (he absolutely refused to stay in it for longer than what was deemed necessary). So long, in fact, that most of the other families had dispersed and the ones who hadn't were giving them odd looks. Blaine supposed it could have been the fact that Finn, Puck, David, Artie, and Wes were trying to arrange a five-part harmony to the song "Under the Sea" from the Little Mermaid, with Sam on guitar.

Burt and Carole wandered over, from the reserved seating. Blaine greeted both with hugs.

"I would complain about the half hour it's taking Kurt, but I know him too well to be surprised," said Burt, and Blaine laughed.

"Burt! Come harmonize with us!" Wes called jovially, and attempted to drag him into their group.

Somehow Quinn ended up at his side. Out of all of the New Directions girls, she was the one he was least familiar with. She'd distanced herself a lot since her and Sam's breakup in their freshman year of college, and Blaine knew the only thing keeping her connected to the group was the unexpected blossoming of her friendship with Kurt.

"You know," she said, quietly, her eyes on the laughing group of boys trying to teach Burt a few patented "Warbler steps", "Gay marriage is legal in Ohio now."

He darted a glance at her quickly. She'd changed so much in high school, since she'd been President of the Celibacy Club.

"I thought you didn't believe in that," he murmured back, just as quietly.

"My church doesn't believe in that," she corrected him. "But I don't agree with everything my church thinks anymore. I haven't since Beth, actually. They weren't exactly welcoming me with open arms once the news of my pregnancy was out in the open."

"So you're saying...?"

"I'm saying that I couldn't possibly believe that you and Kurt are going to hell, not after seeing how much you two love each other."

Blaine felt an unexpected flood of affection fill him, and he slung an arm around Quinn's shoulders.

"Blaine!" cried Wes, waving frantically. "We need your stunning lead vocals!"

He looked at Quinn, and she laughed. "Go," she said, waving him on. "I haven't actually seen you sing in... what, three years?"

And so Blaine spun into the middle, singing about how _the seaweed is always greener in somebody else's lake_, with Tina and Rachel jumping in on the first "Under the Sea", and Blaine took their hands and spun them both, and it was because of this that none of them noticed Kurt standing there until he cleared his throat.

Blaine let Burt get to him first, because _really_, he was his father and Blaine knew that Burt already felt like Kurt had grown up too fast and he was losing him. But Blaine made sure he was a close second when he pulled Kurt into a hug and whispered in his ear "_now you're finally free, how do you feel?"_

And Kurt pulled back with a grin and said, "_like celebrating_."

And Blaine noticed the way he could see a silvery chain when Kurt's shirt pulled at the collar and it made his heart skip, just a little, to see that after _five years_ Kurt was still wearing his necklace _every day_.

And then Wes and David were singing a version of "Kiss the Girl" and changing all of the "girl"s into "boy"s and Blaine grinned at Kurt before throwing an arm around his waist and pulling him into an absolutely _searing_ kiss that had Burt sort of coughing an _"I'm-right-here-you-know"_ until Carole nudged him in the ribs and told him to let the boys have their fun.

"You know, I never really liked the Little Mermaid much," said Blaine, as they broke apart, "But I think it's growing on me."

Kurt gasped. "Blasphemy."

"Please, you only like it cuz Eric reminds you of Blaine," Rachel tossed off, and Blaine threw his head back and laughed.

"I forgot how much I like you, Rachel Berry," he said, and poked Kurt. "Can we keep her?"

"Rachel is only fun in limited doses," Kurt said, poking his tongue out at her. "She's less shrill than she used to be, though."

"Not any taller, though," Puck observed, and Rachel punched him playfully in the arm.

"Shut up, Puck."

"As delightful as this is," Artie cut in, "We have reservations at six."

Blaine was reminded of a younger Rachel Berry as Artie checked his watch impatiently.

"Kurt rides with me," Burt said, looking proudly down upon his son and wrapping an arm around him. He and Carole turned, and Kurt cast a sort of sad twinkly-finger wave at him, when Burt turned back around. "You too, Blaine."

Just that was a moment enough to keep Blaine happy for the rest of the evening as he jogged to catch up with the rest of the Hummel-Hudson family.

There were so many of them at the restaurant that they literally had an entire room to themselves. With all of Kurt's friends and various members of his family gathered in the room, the count was at nearly thirty people. Five tables had to be pushed together to seat them all.

Once they were all seated comfortably (Blaine beside Kurt, Kurt beside his father), Burt stood up, raising his glass (Blaine tried really hard not to jump or look guilty in any way as Kurt's hand snuck up his thigh).

"Kurt, I am so incredibly proud of you," he began. "You have been through so much in your life, and you struggled through it, and you pushed through it, and you're here now and-" he swallowed hard. "I have never been more proud. And I'd say more, but I don't wanna get all sobby on you all."

Everyone in the room applauded as he sat down, Carole squeezing Burt's arm.

Kurt's hand snuck a little higher, but his eyes were fixed on two empty seats at the end of the room.

"Harry and Pratik couldn't make it," Blaine murmured. "I'm sorry, Pratik's still on tour and Harry didn't want to leave him. They send their best, and they gave their gift to me to give to you."

Kurt turned to smile at him. "That's kind of them."

Finn tapped his glass a little, and everyone turned their attention to him. He smiled a little at Kurt. "Well, I think everyone knows I'm not good at, you know, speeches and stuff. But Kurt, bro, I'm so happy for you right now I couldn't _not_ say anything. You're the best guy I've ever met and I'm sorry I was so weird to you in high school, at least for sophomore year and most of junior- but you've turned into the brother I always wanted, even if you won't watch football with me." The table laughed. "But at least your boyfriend will, and that's something. You've always been there for me, and I'll always be there for you, I just want you to know that." He raised his glass, took a sip, and sat back down.

"Thank you," Kurt mouthed at him.

"All right, everyone," Rachel said, standing up, and all of the teenagers (_young adults_- Blaine finds himself struggling with those words a little) at the table groaned. "Quiet, you, this is for Kurt," she admonished, pointing at Finn, who grinned and held his hands up.

She lifted her glass, and took a deep breath. "Kurt, it took you leaving New Directions for me to realize just how important you'd become to me, and I'm sorry for that. I always knew you were talented- which is why I tried so hard to be mean to you, because I knew there was a good chance of you stealing all my solos." She grinned. "But I'm happy you and I could become such close friends after you left, and I'm glad we've all managed to stay friends, even with different colleges and different lives." she looked around at the table. "Mr. Schue was wrong, guys. He once said that in years, we wouldn't remember each other's names. What he didn't realize was that this group... we are the kind of friends you have for _life_, that you never forget."

She turned to where Wes and David were grouped next to Blaine. "As for you three."

Wes and David nudged each other.

"I admit, I was a little worried when I found out Kurt had become so close to a member of the Warblers, and I was _especially_ worried when it became obvious that Kurt was absolutely_ smitten_ with you."

Blaine grinned at Kurt. Kurt's hand slid a little higher.

"And I was worried about you stealing Kurt away with your private-school charm and making him forget all about our dysfunctional family."

"Yo, we put the 'funk' in 'disfunctional'," Artie said, and Quinn shushed him fondly as Puck fist-bumped him.

Rachel smiled a little. "But you just added to us," she said. "You fit so well into our group it was nearly impossible to believe that you hadn't been part of it in the first place. Most of all, you, Blaine. You were _so good_ to Kurt. And you so clearly loved him, even if it took a few months for him to realize that. And oh-" she laughed a little. "This wasn't supposed to turn into a toast about Kurt and Blaine's relationship, but I guess it has. You two are _so lucky_ to have found each other exactly when you needed each other the most.

"And Kurt." she smiled at him, and reached out a hand across the table. Kurt took it with the hand that wasn't sneakily sort-of groping Blaine. "I am so proud of you. And I know you'll move on to do great things, and you'll have all of us behind you. I'm sure I speak for all of us when I say that we will be at your first show."

"Amen!" Mercedes cried. The group laughed collectively, and took long drafts of their drinks.

It took three waiters to cover the group. It probably didn't help that Wes and David sang their entire order, confusing the elderly waitress to no end.

Blaine and Kurt ordered a plate of spaghetti together, and were teased for their sickening adorableness.

The chatter never stopped over dinner. The _insanity_ never stopped over dinner. While the side of the table that held Kurt's relatives may have been normal, the side that held Kurt's friends definitely was not. Mike, Tina, and Brittany got up at least three or four times during the meal to demonstrate random dance moves. Kurt and Rachel burst out with a random duet, singing to each other across the table, and Wes and David began singing a song they made up on the spot about how neither of them particularly enjoyed peas.

Puck caught Blaine's gaze during a spontaneous diva-off between Mercedes and Santana and leaned forward. "I hate to admit it, but I actually really missed these guys."

"This is... the first time we've all been together in a really long time," Blaine said. "And god, I missed it too."

"Berry was right, you know?" Puck mused, looking at the miniature brunette, who was in a heated argument with Tina over the genius of Patti LuPone. "We are a family."

Dinner seemed to end too soon. Kurt looked at Blaine. "I kind of don't want to leave them."

"I know what you mean," Blaine said, looking at Finn, who was giving Brittany a piggy-back ride across the parking lot.

"I have to go say goodbye to my dad," Kurt said, squeezing Blaine's hand tightly. "I'll meet you at the car."

Blaine waited, hands inside his pockets, by Kurt's car with Wes and David.

"What the hell is taking them so long?" Wes said, finally, after eight minutes had passed and not a single one of the old New Directions group had showed.

"Do you hear something?" Blaine asked, cocking an ear.

They all fell silent, and they all heard it. The faint sound of singing drifted over from the parking lot to their listening ears.

_Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes... _

_ Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred moments so dear..._

_ Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes... _

_ How do you measure, measure a year?_

Blaine followed the music as if hypnotized.

The entire New Directions was standing in front of Kurt, singing their hearts out. Kurt looked like he might cry.

Blaine felt horribly like he was intruding.

_Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes... _

_ How do you measure a year in a life?_

_ How about... love? _

At this, Mike and Sam stepped forward to take Kurt's hands and tug him forward, into the group. One by one, their hands linked and their heads bowed.

_How about... love?_

_ Measure in love..._

_ Seasons of love..._

Mercedes stepped forward, her eyes directly on Kurt, and sang, "_Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes... Five hundred, twenty-five thousand journeys to plan... Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes... how do you measure the life of a woman or a man?"_

Squeezing her hands, Kurt sang softly back, "_In truth that she learned, or times that he cried, in bridges he burned, or the way that she died..."_

5 years later, and his voice was just as beautiful as it had been the first time Blaine heard him sing.

_Let's celebrate, remember a year in the life of friends..._

Blaine closed his eyes, and when he opened them, New Directions had stopped singing. They were all piled on top of Kurt, who _wasn't_ complaining about them crushing his brand-new Alexander McQueen blazer or his vintage scarf. He was hugging them back just as fiercely, and his lips were trembling.

Their car ride together was spent in silence, their hands intertwined.

"It kind of feels like an ending, doesn't it?" Kurt said, finally, looking at Blaine.

"Sort of," Blaine admitted, as Kurt pulled up outside their building, "but not really. Because Kurt?"

Kurt just looked at him as he shut the engine off.

"It's not over yet. If we could stay friends with them for this long, then you know it's going to stay that way. Remember what Rachel said?"

"Oh, stop being so perfect," Kurt said, rolling his eyes, but he was smiling as he got out of the car.

Somewhere on the way up to their shared apartment, the mood shifted. Afterwards, Blaine couldn't have said how it happened or what caused it to happen- all he knew was that as soon as the door had swung shut behind him, he was being pushed up against it and Kurt's mouth was attacking his.

They barely made it into their bedroom.

xxxx

Kurt fell asleep, sprawled all over their mattress. Blaine stayed awake, lying on his side, watching the moonlight fall in slivers over the pale skin of Kurt's back, tracing lines with his fingers on his boyfriend's naked body, tracing the words _I love you_ a thousand times, just as Kurt had nearly five years ago.

When the sun began to rise through the window, Kurt stirred. He opened bleary eyes to find Blaine's arm draped over him, and Blaine's smiling face by his.

"Good morning, beautiful." Blaine whispered.

Kurt kissed him, hard. "I could wake up like this every day for forever," he whispered.

Blaine swallowed. His throat suddenly felt parched, and there was a massive knot in his stomach. "Really?" he whispered back.

Kurt propped himself up on one elbow, frowning. "Hey, are you okay?" he reached out to touch Blaine's face, and Blaine grasped the hand and held it against his cheek.

"You- you know I love you, right?" he asked, his eyes searching Kurt's. "I've loved you since- well, it feels like forever. And I love waking up beside you when I have to get up for work and setting your alarm so you won't be late to class because you forgot to set it _again_. I love it when we get all cheesy and romcom-y and ballroom dance around our living room and play our music too loud so the people on the floor below us bang on the ceiling. I love it when you cook dinner because, let's face it, you're an amazing cook and I can't cook to save my life. I even loved it when we got in our first fight and you stormed out of our room and slept in Wes and David's dorm room for the night, because it meant we were a normal couple and up until then I hadn't been quite sure. I love it when you laugh and I love when you get your bitch face on, and I _fucking_ love it when you decide to be sexy, because when you do you do it _so damn well_-"

He was cut off by a fierce kiss to his mouth, and then Kurt was rolling over him and he was forgetting everything he meant to say to Kurt, because Kurt still had that power, to suck all the thoughts out of his brain, but somehow he managed to wrench himself away.

"No, hold on," he said, and Kurt pouted, and it was all he could do not to just say _screw it_ and kiss him again. "I'm going somewhere with this."

With one hand, he reached into the pocket of his jacket, still lying on the floor, and closed his fingers around the ring there, and took a deep breath. "I don't want to be cliche," he said, "but I'm pretty good at being cliche, you know? So... you're amazing, Kurt, and I still have no idea how I'm lucky enough to have someone like you. I love you more than I could ever describe to you, so I'm hoping this kind of says enough." He brought his hand up to the bed and uncurled his fingers slowly.

A spark of sunlight glinted off the silver ring.

Kurt's eyes were wider than Blaine had ever seen them.

"Um-" said Blaine, and he knew he was going to ruin whatever moment they were about to have, and that was _so like him _because when he was nervous he never knew when to shut up. "I know it's nothing big or showy, but I thought it fit you more because, well, it matches your necklace. And silver tends to go better with clothing but if you don't like it I'll just-"

He was cut off by Kurt tackling him to the floor, and pinning his arms above his head, and kissing him soundly.

Also, he was sort of reminded that they were both still naked.

"_I love it_." Kurt said.

"In case you didn't know," Blaine clarified, "I'm asking you to marry me."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I know, Blaine."

"Is that a yes?"

"That's a _hell yes_," Kurt breathed, hot against Blaine's face, and they were kissing again, Blaine's hands tangled in Kurt's hair.

After only a moment of that, though, Kurt stood up, primly smoothing down his hair and slipping on a bathrobe.

"Tease," Blaine accused, something he'd done far too many times in their relationship.

Kurt simply laughed. "I've got to call people and tell them. It's kind of a rule when you get proposed to."

"To be honest, a lot of people knew already," Blaine said, shrugging with one shoulder.

Kurt's eyebrow arched in one of his _looks_. "Really."

"Puck, Wes, David, Tina... Mercedes, I think. Rachel. Quinn. Um. That's it."

Kurt's eyebrow raised even higher. Blaine started to worry that it might disappear into his hairline and never be seen again. "Not Dad?"

"I was kind of scared of being shot more than anything," Blaine said. "And I think he'd prefer to hear it from you. You know Carole's going to go crazy over planning our wedding."

Kurt kind of froze in the act of dialing the buttons on his phone, looking like he'd been caught doing something bad.

"What?"

"Carole's going to want to know everything about the proposal," Kurt said, slowly.

"Yes, that's normal." Blaine stated patiently.

"... Including what I was wearing."

"Just tell her you were wearing my favorite outfit on you."

"_Blaine_."

**A/N: I just realized how insanely much I love PuckxArtie friendship, and I have no idea why. I like RachelxKurt somewhat too, and I think QuinnxKurt is precious. But I really love PuckxArtie friendship and BlainexBrittany friendship.**

**I kind of meant to fit the lawn gnome in here somewhere, but it just didn't happen. I guess it didn't fit. But imagine the lawn gnome sitting on the mantle to their fireplace, and they named him...**

**no. I won't tell you. You decide for yourself what they named him. **

**Thank you all for your wonderful support! I hope that you all enjoyed it, and hopefully your amazing reception of this story will inspire me to get started on another. **


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